


Hear My Thunder

by Nematic



Category: Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types, Game of Thrones (TV), One Direction (Band), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Vampire Diaries (TV), Vikings (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Broken Hearts, Bromance, Character building, Christian don't want to be married, Christian is the king, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fighting, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Heartache, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, King - Freeform, Kings & Queens, M/M, Middle Earth, Mixed Media, Multi, Pregnancy, Queen - Freeform, Threesome - F/M/M, Vikings, War, hidden romance, mention of unwanted abortion, world at war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nematic/pseuds/Nematic
Summary: "She felt like she was sinking down into the deepest and darkest water. A pressure was assembling on her chest and she couldn't catch her breath. The water -  that had carried her to the new and unknown place - was now embracing her from all around, forcing her down to the bottom of the ocean.  Everything seemed hopeless and dark."She had left her life behind as Queen - not a specific lovely one, but at least it was one where her family were proud of her - to be with a barbaric group controlled by a set of unpredictable and thickheaded brothers. What could possible go wrong? *sign*Her husband (King Grey) did not love her, did not even care slightly about her, so why should she care if she left the castle without any goodbyes? Of course she had not expected to escape by the help of a edgy Viking and his brothers. She knew she would run away from the Vikings as soon as it would be possible, and that she was ready to experience how real life functioned. Well, that was the plan anyway.





	1. The Forbidden Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfiction, so try and bear with me ;)

 

 

 

 It was pitch black in the room as she sleepy turned around in the bed with the satin linen wrapped around her body...

 

  

 

 

... Until the brightest white color for the split of a second lighted up her whole chamber, waking her up with a jolt, evaporated was the slightest traces of sleep from her startled mind.

 

 

 

Alarmed she sat up in the king-sized bed, looking around trying to find some sort of sense of this unwanted scare, but just as quickly as the light had intruded her room, just as fast was everything around her now completely covered in darkness giving a feeling of a screaming nothingness.

 

 

 

She was alone.

 

 

 

Her night sight slowly started to adjust, as she slowly moved towards the edge of her side of the bed, feeling her way with her hands and at the same time trying to unwrap the bed sheets from around her waist. 

 

 

 

'When had Christian left the bedroom?' she wondered as she looked around in the empty room after having tucked a couple of unruly bundles of hair behind her ears. 

 

 

 

It wasn't really a surprise to find his side of the bed vacant, she was more a little curious as to when he would have left...  

 

 

 

Suddenly came an enormous BOOM that lasted for multiple seconds, giving her the second scare within only a few moments, pausing her movement for an instant, looking out towards the windows in the far side of the large room.

 

 

 

"I really hate thunder", she gasped, but this thunder strike sounded different than usual, more terrifying, like the sky was cracking and breaking apart.

 

 

 

The thunder seemed to have only been that one strike, because as she sat there frozen for a time the silence started dominating the air again, and she continued on her way out of the bed, even more awake than before.

 

 

 

Judging on the darkness in the room she assessed it to be in the middle of the night, as she turned and cautiously let her feet touch the cold marble floor.

 

 

 

"Nooh" she complained. 'This was definitely a bad idea' she thought as the icy feeling send shivers up through her whole body. 

 

 

 

Determined to get up from the bed she slowly arose, letting her thin long sleeved nightdress fall down along her thighs stopping just under the knee. The white cotton fabric felt slightly comforting in the coolness of the room, not from the actual temperature but the hazy feeling of something that was off. She just couldn't tell if it was a warning sign, or maybe something that she should seek out. 

 

 

 

The thing was, that she was way too curious in nature to let this slip from her mind and just go back to bed. A wise person would probably had stayed in the comfort of the known chamber, but the king had early on in their marriage commented on this not being any of his wife's talents. Well he had plenty of times sent sarcastic comments or complaints her way.

 

 

 

She had gotten used to it and was almost immune to his criticism now. She was almost certain that it wasn't really her his attacks was aimed for, but more what she represented: The queen, his wife. He had resented this idea before she had even been chosen. So the bullying had decreased over time, and turned into some weird kind of mutual ignoring and avoiding of the other person.

 

 

 

For a time it worked.

 

 

 

But then came the loneliness. And she had admitted to herself that being bullied but still noticed was better than the complete isolation. 

 

 

 

She had started looking at Christian and his affairs from afar, observing him fulfilling his obligations as ruler of the country Coprius. 

 

 

 

And the thing was, he looked so loved and respected by the people that he ruled over. And it wasn't for nothing. He certainly did work hard to earn this affection. He did not let anything pass without thorough investigation, always seeing to things being taken care of, very controlling but with matters that could impact a lot of people this seemed not to be a bad thing. The thing that surprised her the most, was that he probably in his own way loved the people back, and definitely took his responsibilities with the highest seriousness. 

 

 

 

The worst thing she could possible wish for had happened.

 

 

 

She had started to grow feelings for Christian. That selfish prick that had newer been kind to her.

 

 

 

Well, that was almost true.

 

 

 

There was always that one time during some nights when all the lights were out that he would come into her room after having knocked on the door. It was like the darkness transformed him into the most gentle and lovely husband. He was always so careful and considerate, even just thinking about it made her body shiver with bliss. It was always over to quickly, she hated it when he would leave her just as fast as he had appeared.

 

 

 

She had told herself probably a thousand times that it never meant anything to him, that it was only out of duty he came and visited her. Regrettably she reminded herself that all he needed from her was to fulfill the marriage by producing a heir.

 

 

 

How could she be this foolish? When had she allowed herself to fall for this guy who clearly did not return any sentiments at all towards her?

 

 

 

She indeed wasn't wise at all. He had been completely right on that one.

 

 

 

Could she live her life forever like this, loving her husband from afar? Fooling herself with only getting fake affection whenever he sought out her company to uphold duties? She did not have any answer to this question and last night’s activities definitely did not help her towards any reasonably conclusions. 

 

 

 

'What is love anyway?' She asked herself. 

 

 

 

Who was to say that her love was wrong or unjustified? 

 

 

 

She was queen, she was married to the king, and she could get anything she wanted, but never get her love returned. This was her cross to bear and so be it.

 

 

 

... But she did have a small hope in her heart.

 

 

 

Again, wisdom was definitely not any skill she should ever proclaim owning.  

 

 

 

Hope was all she really had left.

 

 

 

And patients. But this was wearing thin on her.

 

 

 

The warning feeling that came after the thunder had her on edge. But one thing was clear to her: She was done with being scared. 

 

 

 

So with all this in her heart, she moved away from the bed toward the chair where her robe hang.

 

 

 

She pulled the pale sand-colored velvet cloak over her shoulders, letting the hood fall down on her back. This was one of the finest item she had ever owned with the small embroideries along the edge of the fabric. And even though she hated the role that was forced upon her through the planed marriage, she did enjoy some of the small benefits like elegant clothing. 

 

 

 

She closed the robe in front of her, embracing the protecting cover that erased some of the chills that had hunted her body before, and turned around.

 

 

 

With a last glance out between the wooden shutters in the huge windows in the far side of the room, where nothing but darkness could be seen, she walked across the large chamber.

 

 

 

The resilient wooden door opened slowly up as she carefully but decisively pulled the handle, making a small cracking noise. She took a final glance over her shoulder, as to check again to see if any sort of sign would stop her in her doing, but it all looked too quiet and still. 

 

 

 

And just like that, she walked out into the dark hallway, quickly closing the door behind her as to ensure that nothing from the inside would try to stop her.

 

 

 

She had never before been out of her chamber in the middle of the night. Sure, sometimes it was late when she went to bed, but never had she been awoken like this, and walked out on her own. 

 

 

 

The thing was, that being queen meant always being escorted around anywhere she went. Never being left alone, always having some kind of overseer checking that nothing unfitting for a queen was going to happen. But still she felt alone, since it often was some dump guards and officials, or even worse, officials’ wife's... 

 

 

 

Trying to have a conversation with any of them was hopeless, since the only topics that they would engage in was meaningless things like fashionable fabrics, food, the weather or maybe some poems they had heard. Politics or matters of the state was avoided ungracefully or completely ignored if she tried to start or ask about it, since this wasn't anything fitting for a queen to ask about.

 

 

 

It was unheard of that a woman, even a queen, would worry her little head with official business, or exhausting things like strategic management. No, a woman only needed to attend to family matters, like raising children, planning cultural festivities, or entertaining high status guests with appropriating things like singing or reciting poems. Or that was what her maids always tried to school her about. 

 

 

 

And of course the only thing her company really wanted to hear about was how she was feeling, if she felt tired or maybe sick? Or did she need a rest or maybe she was hungry? Or some other stupid sign that could indicate that an heir was (finally) under way. 

 

 

 

But she could still only disappoint in this regard. Nothing had changed. She felt exactly the same.

 

 

 

One big disappointment, a failure as a wife. That was what she felt everybody was saying behind her back. 

 

 

 

Maybe except for Harry. 

 

 

 

Harry Styles was the appointed Master of keys for the queen's quarters.

 

 

 

He would always be kind to her, always trying to make her smile. He could whisper funny or embarrassing stories of the irritating officials and their wife's that would make her laugh inappropriately loud under cultural ceremonies or boring dinner parties. It was like he found it his duty to help her through though days, when her struggles would start to feel too overwhelming. 

 

 

 

He were one of the few people at the court that she would count as a friend. When she first had arrived to the palace, he had been there for her from the start. Over time they had found a common momentum of irritation that was the stupidity of trying to small talk with court officials or the people of higher nobility, and with that their relation had slowly turned into a beautiful friendship and she was very grateful for it.

 

 

 

Harry would never ask or in any way try to examine her to see if she had a 'condition'. That made his job as the Master of keys for her so much easier, since he was the only other man than the king that was close to her.  

 

 

 

In her heart she actually felt a little relieved that nothing had changed. Because it would probably mean that Christian would stop visiting her champers.

 

 

 

She knew that probably made her the most ungrateful and selfish person, to actually be happy about being barren. 

 

 

 

It was Just that the thought of being used by the king and then abandoned for however many months maybe years was almost unbearable to her.

 

 

 

She looked up and down along the hallway. She was still in the area of her chambers, which included several bedrooms, dressing rooms, a smaller dining room, sleeping quarters for the maidens and the living room where she spent most of her time.  

 

 

 

She assumed that all the maidens were asleep at this time, the only people awake would be the guards. There was always a group of soldiers standing guard on the outside of the large door at the end of the hallway. No man, but the king and the Master of keys, was allowed to enter the queen's residence. It was a very trusted profession to be the Master of keys, and the king would only appoint someone he would trust his own life with. It was a matter of honor and integrity. 

 

 

 

The large doorway at the end of the hallway was the only entrance into the queen's quarters.  

 

 

 

But first she definitely needed to find a pair of boots before leaving anywhere. Her bare feet felt almost numb from the few steps she had taken on the cold maple floor. The whole place felt extra freezing that night.

 

 

 

She quietly walked to the nearest dressing room just on the right side of her bedroom, looking around as to ensure nobody was around. Small brass candle holders distributed along the hallway sides emitted just enough light from the almost burned down candles for her to navigate without problems.

 

 

 

The door into the smaller room was already open and she went straight to the wooden shoe rack, with what felt like endless rows of foot wear. 

 

 

 

She located a familiar pair of black boots from the next lowest shelf, and quickly put them on but without making a sound. Her feet welcomed the protecting layer of leather. 

 

 

 

Now she needed to figure out how she could leave her quarters without alarming the guards.

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

He had just unlocked the last strap when an enormous thunderstruck had sounded. 

 

 

 

He really couldn't be bothered. He was so close now. Nothing would get in his way, certainly not any foolish thunderstorm. 

 

 

 

And by the looks of it, he wasn't the only one who felt that way. 

 

 

 

The dark shadowy room felt on edge, trembling with excitement and anticipation. From the ceiling hang long thin red drapes that encircled the middle of the room adding to the delicate atmosphere.

 

 

 

Well, it was exactly what he had planned when then chamber had been made after his demand. He felt very smug over what he so far had accomplished, and what he now was about to after using almost the last hour on preparing the compliant former captive.

 

 

 

Carefully he lifted the lax body up from the bench and walk over to the big bed in the middle of the oval room.

 

 

 

"Are you still here Jon?" Christian asked loudly as he carefully laid the delicate frame on the bed. 

 

 

 

"Where else would I be?" Jon Snow answered lowly from behind one of the red curtains surrounding the attraction in the center.

 

 

 

A smug and self-pleased smile appeared on Christian.

 

 

 

Jon stood there transfixed and awaited what the next step would be, not wanting to disturb. But the warrior in him needed to ask: "Should we worry about the weather, sir? That was an alarming loud thunderstruck. Could it become a problem?" 

 

 

 

Christian hated problems about just as much as he hated to be interrupted. But he understood that Jon's job as commander of the king’s personal guards forced him into evaluating each possible treat to his life, including any weird natural phenomena. 

 

 

 

The smile were gone, replaced by an ignored stare. "No need," Christian reply irritated. "Let's wait and see if it develops into something more...” He continued more calm and added: “And since when did the big wolf become scared of a little thunder?"

 

 

 

The lurking smile was back on, as some of the other guests in the room was laughing with him. Christian had this ability to turn his mood around in seconds and focus on whatever task was at hand. 

 

 

 

Right now his task was laying naked on the bed in front of him. 

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

 She moved quickly through the shadows but with no specific target in mind.

 

 

 

The long cloak flickered behind her, since she had only closed the first two buttons in the front, giving her a feeling of having wings.

 

 

 

She enjoyed being on her own for the first time in forever, and ran as fast as she could to imitate a bird flying free finally out of the cage, only stopping when she was approaching areas that she expected guards to be posted. But she knew the palace, and therefor had a idea of which way to go to avoid disturbing anyone. 

 

 

 

The silence around her felt uplifting, like a long forgotten memory that suddenly had been reappearing in her mind.   

 

 

 

And she was smiling. 

 

 

 

She had been so relieved when she had discovered the secret door in her living room.

 

 

 

There had been a small draft coming from one of the corners in her large living room, and with all the lights out, she could vaguely see an outline around it. She had carefully investigated it, but more by chance found a button that slowly had opened the hidden door. It had led to the hallway that was just around the corner to her own entrance. Luckily the guards clearly hadn't known about it, so she had listed off unnoticed. 

 

 

 

She halted her running as she came to a big staircase at the end of a big open hall and decided to walk down a floor.

 

 

 

Downstairs, she recognized it to be one of Christian's private areas. Meaning one of the areas she normally wasn't allowed to enter.

 

 

 

The smile on her face grew into a mischievous one. 

 

 

 

'Nobody can stop me now,' she fought as she slowly walked to the entrance of the normally forbidden area, looking around and checking for any signs of life.

 

 

 

Also, she wanted to figure out where Christian went after their nightly activities. Did he maybe suffer from insomnia, or was it something else that terrorized him. Maybe he simply just enjoy sleeping alone... or maybe she wouldn't find him alone.

 

 

 

Maybe it was just her that he couldn't stand to be in the same room with for too long. That fought hurt her more than what she would like to admit.

 

 

 

Of course she wasn't delusional. She knew the king probably had multiple mistresses, but at least it wasn't anything that he liked sharing with her. 

 

 

 

She quickly turned her attention back to her surroundings, not wanting to longer to long in painful thoughts. 

 

 

 

Luckily there wasn't any guards close to the stairway, but she could see light coming further down the left turned foyer.

 

 

 

She walked close to the wall in the left side of the hallway, with her hood hiding as much of her face as possible. Large pillars spaced along the walls, made it difficult for her to stay hidden in the shadows whenever she needed to pass one.

 

 

 

Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching and pressed herself as far into the wall behind a column as possible.

 

 

 

A guard holding a lantern in front of himself passed without noticing her, but that wasn't her concern. If he was to turn around and walk back she would be discovered immediately.

 

 

 

She saw the guard enter the stairway and turn right, and felt a little relieved. She stood there for a few seconds weighing her next move.

 

 

 

But then she heard one of the other guards still further down the hall, calling out to the guard that had just left. Apparently he had forgotten something. 

 

 

 

'Dammit' she thought as she desperately looked around for any help or cover she could use. 

 

 

 

Beside her was a small table with a silver decanter displayed, standing on a white table cloth.

 

 

 

She quickly lifted the container and took the cloth. Then she pulled down her hood and wrapped the white cloth as a head scarf around her hair, like how she had seen the maidens wearing it. Then she took the carafe in her hands holding it like a servant would carry it in front of her and prayed for her idea to work.

 

 

 

Before the guard were back she walked into the middle of the hallway and towards the guards further down in the light.

 

 

 

"You there, where did you come from? Stop at once!" She heard the guard from behind call out to her a second later, and tired not to panic. "Ye-yees, sir?" She slightly stuttered as she turned around not too quickly as she desperately tried to look calm. 

 

 

 

 "What are you doing here maiden? The king ordered to not be disturbed this night. What is your name and who send you here?" The guard asked with irritation clear in his question.

 

 

 

"I'm here on the king’s specific request," she replied shyly looking down trying to avoid eye contact in respect, but internal feeling pleased about being called maiden. 

 

 

 

She thanked the light in the hallway for being dimmed, as her disguise probably wouldn't had worked in normal lighting. Her fine clothing would had given too much away about her high status.

 

 

 

 "The king asked for a bottle of his finest wine to be delivered here at this late hour," she continued. 

 

 

 

She really hoped that the king was actually present in this particular area, she had no other idea. She also hoped they didn't felt like tasting any of that so-called fine wine, because the vial was completely empty, and they would discover her lie instantly. 

 

 

There was way too much relying on hope at the moment she worried, she hated putting herself in this situation, but she had been too curious to pass the change. 

 

 

 

The other guards had now heard them talking and had walked down away from the door they had been guarding, to see what was going on.

 

 

 

"Oi, what is this? A late night snack walking around all by herself." One of the new comers asked as he looked with a satisfied smile at her.

 

 

 

She turned around and saw that there was four guards in all, including the first guard behind her. She was still fighting internal to hold back the panic, but in some weird way it eased her mind that it was her that they focused on, not the sliver carafe with "wine".

 

 

 

"Yes, sweetie, what are you doing all by yourself out in the middle of the night?" A third guard teasingly asked as he took a step closer to her, standing right in front of her.

 

 

 

She turned her eyes down again for a second as a respond to their disrespectful comments, but then she took a deep breath and looked the guard in front of her directly in the eyes, and with a high amount of urgency replied: "I'm already late with the delivery - the king does not like to wait. I really need to get the wine to the king now, or do you want to be the ones who stands in the way of what the king wants?" 

 

 

 

She must have said something in just the right way, because all of the men went pale as white. 

 

 

 

"I'm not gonna be the next Pete." One of the guards responded with horror written all over his face. It sounded like something awful had happened recently. They all looked around at each other in silent agreement. "What harm can one little girl do?" one of them lowly said to the two others, reassuring their decisions.  

 

 

 

Then the guard in front of her turned 180 degrees around on his heels, took her arm slightly firmly and guided her quickly to the door further down the hall where they before had been standing guard. 

 

 

 

The guard opened the door, pushed her in and quickly closed it behind her.

 

 

 

She stood there completely astonished. 

 

 

 

Her plan had actually worked, she couldn't believe it. 

 

 

 

She was still trembling with shock over the guards’ behavior. Something truly horrifying had spooked the guards completely, but she couldn't dwell in it now. She needed to get going before she was caught in the area she normally was banned from entering. Now she had past the first obstacle, but she could be standing in the next one already. 

 

 

 

She examined the new foyer she had entered, and found that it wasn't that long with only three other doors except the one she had entered through along it. Dark red curtains hang in curvatures along the walls where a few chandeliers hanged in between giving a delicate atmosphere.

 

 

 

She did not like the nervous feeling it settled in her.

 

 

 

'Okay, facts first,' she thought to get a hold on herself, as she sat the decanter down on a little desk standing against the wall close to the entrance. 'I know Christian is here,' the guards had confirmed that much. 'He is probably not alone' she continued with a little sadness in her heart. But she couldn't fool herself. Being such a respected and powerful king inevitably meant attracting a lot of courtesans and who would deny him?

 

 

 

She decided on not making any prior assumptions, and just see for herself. 

 

 

 

She went for the first door on the left side of the hall. 

 

 

 

Slowly she pulled down the handle and pushed the door in. 

 

 

 

She took a few steps into a very dark windowless room. She could only make up silhouettes of the scattered furniture inside, but couldn't see any people inside and after listening closely for a time she considered it abandoned.

 

 

 

She turned around and was about to walk out of the dark room when she saw chains hanging on the wall close to the door. 'What are they for?' she wondered while she hurried out. The quiet room gave her a creepy feeling. 

 

 

 

Safely out and with the door closed behind her she walked to the next door, this time on the right side. 

 

 

 

Carved in the middle of the wooden door was a strange symbol she had never seen before. It kind of looked like a snake but with four legs and there was some weird writing around it. 

 

 

 

Intrigued she pulled down the handle but the door didn't move an inch. 'Damn it, it's locked' she fought after some failed attempts at opening the door. Of course she did it all very quietly, not wanting to disturb or alarm anyone on the inside.

 

 

 

Unwilling she gave up on the intriguing second door, and walked to the last door at the end of the hallway. She really hoped that this wouldn't be locked as well since that would probably be the end of her adventure. 

 

 

 

She hadn't really thought about how or when she would return to her room, or pass the guards in the hallway for that matter. This was all the future-her's problems that she did not want to worry about unnecessary early. 

 

 

 

She looked up at the big dark-brown door in front of her. In that moment it felt almost too much that whether it was locked or not, it would somehow define her life. And not just in a literally way. She considered her options shortly but lifted slowly her hand towards the handle.

 

 

 

She pulled carefully down the handle, and heard the smallest 'click' sound. 

 

 

 

The relief she felt as the door opened slightly in front of her was bigger than she had expected. She held in her breath as she glanced into the room from the small opening. 

 

 

 

The elongated room was darkened, but not completely unlighted as the first room. There was some lights on the walls similar to the chandeliers in the hallway.

 

 

 

From her limited view through the door opening, she couldn't see much but there looked to be some smaller gateway through some curtains into another area. The curtains also matched the dark red curtains in the hallway. 

 

 

 

As she listened she became sure of hearing noises even something sounding as voices coming from that other area through the curtains. 

 

 

 

She was definitely getting closer to whatever it was she was hoping to find. It had to be something including the king, else the guards wouldn't had been stationed as they were.

 

 

 

At least that was her reasoning. 

 

 

 

She dared open the door enough so that she could sneak in, seeing as nobody seemed to be around the door area.

 

 

 

The noises became a little louder but she still couldn't distinguish any recognizable words or sentences from it.  

 

 

 

Being inside she could now see how the whole room was covered in red velvet on the walls and creating a door to cover whatever was going on further down the corridor.

 

 

 

She walked silently towards the curtains.   

 

 

 

The velvet hang in many layers and as she pulled the first row to the side, she saw how she had to pass quite a few curtains hanging alternating from the two sides of the corridor before getting through it all.

 

 

 

While still slowly working her way silently through the curtains she was sure she could hear voices talking among the noise.

 

 

 

She even thought she could recognize some, it wasn't her husband's but one of them differently sounded like the calm voice of Aragorn - the king of Gondor.

 

 

 

He was a member of the counsel to the House of Grey and a very trusted adviser and friend to the king. They had many meetings planning strategy and defense propositions against enemies and invaders, or so she was told. She was never allowed in any of those meetings, so she could only hear about it from others.

 

 

 

When she was finally at the last curtain of the gateway which had felt endless to her, she peaked out through a small opening which only gave her a look to the left side of the room.

 

 

 

 The atmosphere of the room she was looking into felt very strange to her.

 

 

 

 The dim lit room had an oval shape with some couches and beds dispersed along the walls. 

 

 

 

With the left turned angle she peaked into the room she could indeed see the contour of King Aragorn laying on his side resting his head in his hand, with his back towards her.

 

 

 

He was on a canopy bed, with someone in front of him, but in the faint light it was hard to see who it was. 

 

 

 

Aragorn seemed to be only wearing some loose white shirt and black pants. It was more relaxed and informal than what she had ever seen him like before.

 

 

 

What she could see was that their attention were both turned towards the middle of the room.

 

 

 

As she wanted to try and turn her view towards whatever it was they were observing her head scarf got caught in the curtain. When she at the same time reached up to loosen the scarf and turned in her position while still looking into the room she lost her balance and fell out through the curtain...

 

 

 

Her landing was far from graceful, and her left elbow hurt from taking the hit. She had let out a small "ughf" as she hit the floor and was now laying completely frozen looking down into the floor. 

 

 

 

She expected that someone would address her at any moment for discovering the intrusion, but apparently no one had heard or noticed it being so focused on the middle of the room, because nobody came to inspect the noise. 

 

 

 

She dared looking up out through her hair in front of her eyes, but all she saw was the white cloth laying a meter in front of her.

 

 

 

As she moved her hair away from her eyes and looked up towards the middle of the room she saw that this area was encircled in very thin drapes. The fabric was so fine that you could look through it. It was very different from the thick velvet curtains that had been in the gateway and on the walls, but it had the same red shading. 

 

 

 

She was so focused on the rare transparent fabric that she didn't think about getting up from the floor in the first few seconds. It took her a moment to adjust her sight to see what the drapes actually were covering.

 

 

 

From her view from the floor she could see a massive bed standing in the center of the circle. 

 

 

 

Two people were on it and from the sound of it they were having a great time. All she could see was the shadows of naked bodies moving.

 

 

 

She was so confused and hyponotized at the same time. 

 

 

 

People were having sex in front of other people? And not just any people, but important people like King Aragorn. How could this be happening and in the kings quarters? And where was her husband in all of this?

 

 

 

She was very perplexed by it all, but manage anyway to start getting up from the floor. 

 

 

 

Also, her curiosity as to who was actually on the bed was too much for her to look away, or leave as any proper lady probably would have done. But then again, she never regarded herself as a real lady. A real lady would never have been in the room in the first place she thought, would never had left her own bedroom during the night.

 

 

 

Becoming queen had all happened so suddenly and unexpected. She never had any real training or education in 'properness' at a court while growing up, so how could she be expected to know how to behave like a lady? Of course this didn't fit in with the expectations people had of her, and the lessons had started immediately after the wedding. They just wouldn't stop the ranting about all her mistakes and how she needed to improve.   

 

 

 

As she slowly had stood up from the floor, her eyes transfixed on the moving shades behind the curtains while trying to adjust to the dim light. Then the person on top moved slightly to the side which made a ray of light shine upon the scene and her view became suddenly much more clear.

 

 

 

Abruptly the reality of it all came crashing down on her. She stood there completely paralyzed by what she saw.

 

 

 

On the bed was King Christian in the middle of fucking Harry!

 

 

 

She couldn't believe it. Harry? Harry Styles her best friend with her husband?

 

 

 

Of course she had expected it to be the king on the bed. She had never fooled herself into thinking that he was faithful in their marriage. She had always expected there to be other women in his life sharing his bed. But never had it crossed her mind that the person he would share it with would be a man.

 

 

 

But not just any man. A that was the reason why she was in shock. 

 

 

 

Because of the immense betrayal she felt in her heart.

 

 

 

Harry was her most trusted friend. Or so she had thought. She couldn't believe the scene that was unfolding in front of her.

 

 

 

Christian was banging fast and rhythmical into Harry, who was on his back with his legs around Christians hips. 

 

 

 

Harry let out small noises of joy, and cried out a loud 'Yes my king!' as the king looked to be banging even harder into the boy.

 

 

 

It was like with every movement they were hitting a nail deeper and deeper into her heart, breaking it completely into pieces. 

 

 

 

The tears was starting to run down her cheeks. She did not want to see anymore but couldn't take her eyes of it. The truth of it all was too much for her to comprehend. 

 

 

 

Then she heard her name being said by someone else in the room.

 

 

 

She looked to her right and saw Jon Snow standing up from a couch he had been sitting in.

 

 

 

He was looking directly at her with a confused and mournful expression, probably from the hurt he could see on her face. 

 

 

 

Jon started slowly to walk with a hand stretch out towards her, but both their attention was broken by a new lustful noise that this time came from the king. 

 

 

 

Fearfully she looked at her husband, who now had a firm grip on Harry.

 

 

 

She watched through tearful eyes as Christian easily lifting Harry up and how they was now embracing each other while still fucking with the same quick pace. 

 

 

 

And that was it. It was like her limit had been reached and she finally snapped out of her trance.

 

 

 

Jon was still at some distance away from her as she turned around on her heels and ran as fast as possible to the curtain gateway.

 

 

 

“My Queen!” Jon tried to call quietly after her but she did not really hear him, and just continued out of the room.

 

 

 

The curtains flew with a lash to the sides as she ran. Harry looked just in time towards the entrance to see her disappear out of the room...

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, at least I enjoyed writing it. ;)
> 
> Remember it's still building up and more characters will be presented later into the story. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you think!
> 
> The second Chapter is already in the making ;)


	2. One Year Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all. We are one year back compared to the first chapter.

 

 

 

She was standing in the crowd of relatives to all the hundreds of young women that was waiting on being presented to the king of Coprius.

 

 

 

The tension was high as the king was yet to do his entrance, and all the girls were standing in rows looking anxious around judging each other’s appearance or trying to be the first to spot the king when he would enter the throne room. 

 

 

 

They were all daughters of high-ranking officers, the best of the nobility and even some from distant royal families.

 

 

 

Everyone there was dressed in their finest clothing, the hair was styled in the most elegant way, and many was displaying some quiet expensive jewelry.

 

 

 

In the second row from her stood her three sisters in their excessive outfits. 

 

 

 

They had begged her to accompany them on their journey, and she had hesitantly accepted. She had looked forward to see the palace and the city, but hadn’t been just as excited when the royal invite had arrived at the estate of Lord Humpery. She thought it to be strange that a king couldn’t find a queen on his own, but needed his counsel to send out invitations for girls to come and present themselves. Although, what did she really know about kings?

 

 

 

Her father had immediately appointed the three other sisters of the first wife to be presented for the king. They had all been overly excited about the possibility of meeting the king. They were all sure that they would be the one that would be chosen as queen, and the one who was going to be living in the palace. 

 

 

 

The infinitely rant and fanatic giggling between the three sisters was something she definitely could had lived without, as they traveled through the country from their remote laying estate to the palace that laid in the middle of the enormous capital city Aarhindal. At the time they reached the city she couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over, so they would stop talking about it. On the other side she did enjoy being out of the familiar surroundings of their homeland. She carefully observed the new environments and communities they passed by on their way from her window side in the closed carriage. She was even allowed to sit beside the coachman a couple of times, given her a change to catch some fresh air and a very much needed break from the sisters. 

 

 

 

Their arrival at the capital city had been a mixed experience for the newcomers. The terrible smell that lingered everywhere had been an unpleasant surprise, but the diverse people and the many types of livelihood and professions was something that really had impressed them all. She had also observed quite a lot of poor people that looked to be living in almost all the streets. She couldn't believe that such a rich looking city didn't have a place for all the poor souls, but apparently the city wasn't exactly what people had told them at home.

 

 

 

Finally, the day had arrived when the palace would open the doors and hundreds of eligible women would storm in all expecting to be selected as queen.

 

 

 

She really couldn't wait for it to be over. The pompousness of it all was too much for her liking and she had been relieved when her father hadn't picked her to be presented. 

 

 

 

The elegant room filled with the most important people standing close together trying to spot their daughters and see what was happening made her feel really out of place. The loud noises that echoed in the large room didn't help either.

 

 

 

The king probably liked tormenting all the poor girls by not showing up on time she speculated. However, she assumed also that he was possibly busy with more important stuff like ruling a kingdom, and then a room full of young women could wait.

 

 

 

She looked around and watched some of the people that worked in the palace trying to calm the crowd, walking around ensuring order, checking that people was actually on their lists. 

 

 

 

Apparently, the servants was trying to move the audience back, since it was getting quiet cramped in the front.

 

 

 

She started to examine the hall. It was very impressive.

 

 

 

The throne room felt enormous. Huge marble pillars towered along each side of the broad walkway that lead all the way from the big entrance doors up to the elevated plateau at the end where an empty silver chair was standing in the middle. She assumed it to be the king's throne, and found it a little absurd to have such an extravagant chair, when they had seen so much poverty in the streets of the city. The grandiose royal residence was in very sharp contrast to some of the things they had observed on their journey thereto. 

 

 

 

She recognized the banners on the wall behind the throne and along the walkway between the pillars. The banner of the house of Grey. The rearing black horse where on a grey background and above it was a white crown. Everybody knew that the house of Grey had a very proud horse tradition, and the royal stud farm was very famous. 

 

  

 

She compared the young eager ladies standing alongside in rows as the newest string of horses arriving at the stud, just waiting to be assessed. They were all standing along the walkway as the audience was being pushed out between the pillars by the palace guards or servants.

  

 

  

Since she didn't cared much for what was going to happen, she was trying to get out of the way as some frustrated parents were pushing their way to get to the front closer to the throne. With the limited space around, she got pushed and was aiming fast for the ground. Just before landing on her face, a man suddenly appeared catching her in the fall.

 

 

 

Surprised by it all she thanked the kind soul who had helped her. She could tell he was part of the staff from the elegant uniform he was wearing.

 

 

 

The guy was a handsome young man, not must older than her. He had the most bright green eyes and sweetest smile, though she could detect some sadness in his impression. His eyes looked a little red and buffed.

 

 

 

"Aren't you supposed to be standing in line ready to be presented to his majesty, my lady?" The boy asked her disconcert as he helped her back on her feet. He had a form of distant flare in his eyes, like he wasn't really present.

 

 

 

"I wasn't appointed" she replied quickly her cheeks getting red.

 

 

 

"I'm not half as beautiful or educated as my sisters, and beside I'm only the daughter of the second wife." She said lowly.

 

 

 

"It wouldn't be appropriate to be standing between all the ladies of the highest ranks." She was shyly looking on her folded hands in front of her, trying to excuse her present in the stunning man's company.

 

 

 

"I'm not a lady." It was not a title she would ever use about herself, since she wasn't really raised as one. Her upbringing had been very free, since her mother had not believed in the normally strict education of noble women. 

 

 

 

"Well, daughter-of-the-second-wife that is just not the truth." He scolded her smiling a bright smile, as some of the sadness disappeared from his eyes. It was like he only now started to actually look at her, being more present.

 

 

 

"You are truly just as beautiful as any of the girls in this room, maybe even more because you don't have any of that weird looking rag on that they maybe would call a dress." He nodded towards the nearest row of girls, where a peculiar orange colored dress really stood out from the crowd. "And I do think you are a lady, you just don't know it yet." he had this blink in his eye. 

 

 

 

The honest opinion from the sweet young man made her smile. "See, what a beautiful smile." He commented satisfied. "A smile is by far the most delicate and appealing thing a women can show any man. And just as a cloud appearing on the sky can an incautious man scare it away." She did not know what to reply to the compliment and grew impossible even redder on her cheeks. She had the feeling that he was referring to something from his own experience. 

 

 

 

He looked suddenly very intensely at her. Like he was deciding on something. 

 

 

 

He then took her hand as he and said: "That is what you must show the king," as he turned around and walked all the way up to the front of the rows dragging her behind him.

 

 

 

"Wait, what?" she said and was taken aback with the boldness of the man's words and did not really understand what was going on.

 

 

 

Not until he found a place for her in the right outer row, very close to the front and the throne. He pushed her in between a pair of annoyed girls but they did not dare to complain seeing that he was working for the palace.

 

 

 

She didn't get any time to protest against being handled, because suddenly a trumpet's call announced that the king was about to enter. She looked confused around but the boy had disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

 

 

 

The room vent completely quiet and she looked up at the elevated front.

 

 

 

As easy as nothing from her new spot on the floor she could see a door being opened in the left side of the room.

 

 

 

In walked an elegant dressed man with a very strong appearance that clearly revealed him of being commander of the whole room, possible the world.

 

 

 

She held down her breath just as everyone else in the room, as he with grace and a powerful stare walked up in front of the throne.

 

 

 

The crown on his head felt almost irrelevant, since it was clear from his posture that he was the one in control of everything and everyone. No shiny object could underline this anymore than the intense stare of power as his intelligent grey-colored eyes scanned the room.

 

 

 

Standing in front of the rows of the hopeful waiting women, he announced with a high clear voice: "Bound by the customs of the house of Grey, the reigning king has to be engage in marriage before his thirtieth birthday."  He looked along the rows. "It seems that next month that day will arrive. This is why my devoted counsel has send invitations to all of you, the finest ladies in the country." She thought she could trace a small hint of annoyance in his words, but she still felt spellbound by his dominant voice. 

 

 

 

"The counsel are confident that the future queen is standing in this room right now." The king continued, and the room exploded with excitement among the girls and cheering from the audience.

 

 

 

"But let's see about that", the king added as he ended his small speech. She wondered if she was the only one actually listening to what the king was saying. He did not at all sound impressed by his obligations. As if he wasn't at all as eager to find a wife, as all the women in the room was eager to be chosen for this.

 

 

 

The king vent to the throne and sat down gracefully, leaning back in the chair while observing the chaos happening in front of him.

 

 

 

Servants was again trying to calm down the young hysterical women. 

 

 

 

The king raised his hand, and within a few seconds, the room felt completely quiet again. Nobody dared even to look away from the king, all waiting to hear more of what was about to happen.

 

 

 

"I do have a saying in this, though, since I am still the king." The king started.

 

 

 

"Everyone in here under the age of eighteen please leave the room immediately, and please take your followers with you." He said in a voice that tried to sound overly sweet. 

 

 

 

The disappointment was clear to detect in the large hall. Some felt like protesting, but just looking at the king was enough to settle any disagreement.

 

 

 

A girl not looking a day over fifteen, who was standing a little in front of her started crying while turning around to leave the room.  

 

 

 

About a fifth of the girls and their families had now left the room. She was shocked by how many underage girls there had been in the room. What was their families thinking marry of their small girls to the king who was turning thirty? To her that was insane, but she reminded herself about the non-conventional free upbringing she had had, and many possibly would do anything to have their daughter become queen. The immense honor ad power that would be bestowed on a newly appointed queen's family were probably all that they were thinking about. 

 

 

 

She wondered if her youngest sister also had left the room since she was only seventeen. She was standing really far down so it was impossible for her to try to see from her position.

 

 

 

As the room felt quiet again after the doors had closed behind the last leaving girls, the king leaned forward in his seat. The room felt extremely on edge.

 

 

 

"Dishonesty will be punished in the worst possible way." He warned the remaining girls.

 

 

 

"It goes without saying that anyone in here that is already married or engaged to be married can leave as well." He sent out a small smile as he continued to list up his demands; "The same goes for anyone that is no longer a virgin. I'm looking for a pure maiden, not a ruined commoner. You can now leave the hall. And trust me, I WILL discover it if you are lying to me." His intense stare together with the warning agitated the fierce atmosphere in the room even further. 

 

 

 

Quite a few girls became scared of the warning and hurried out of the hall. 

 

 

 

Even she felt scared and was now completely sure that her younger sister had left the room. Nobody would dare to try to lie to the king after this warning.

 

 

 

With a satisfied smile, the king now stood up and went to a man, probably a high-ranking solider or commander, who was dressed in a leather armor standing not far from his side. He had a very long sword hanging from his belt. She hadn't noticed him before haven been completely focused on the king.

 

 

 

The commander had a dark brown curly hair and dark eyes. His expression was hard to read. They were exchanging some words, looking down the rows of the women, and back at each other.  

 

 

 

The king made some silent agreement with the darkhaired man, and smiled some ambivalent smile. The solider did not look pleased with their small discussion, but vent then back to the emotionless expression.

 

 

 

King Christian then went slowly down from the plateau, and started to walk in between the rows examine the many women who was left, still standing in line. 

 

 

 

All the girl's eyes were carefully watching the kings every movement around the rows while trying to impress him. She was having a silent laugh out of how insanely funny the women was looking, twitching with their body or batching their eyelids. 

 

 

 

The king started to dismiss girls he wasn't interested in. He would review the girl and then give a "No" or shake his head in disagreement. Servants would then quickly arrive and escort the rejected women out. 

 

 

 

It was comical how desperately the ladies seemed to grow as the king kept rejecting girls.

 

 

 

They really tried everything to get some attention; some even started fighting their way closer to the king.

 

 

 

She covered her mouth to try to cover her laughter; she did not know why she couldn't hold it in. She was just so tired after listening to her sisters ranting about being chosen as queen and how perfect the king was.

 

 

 

Now they were all here, and the king was not the nice person they had all dreamed him to be. 

 

 

 

'Good luck to the poor soul that ends up with being chosen' was all she could think as she failed holding back a small laugh. 

 

 

 

"What is so funny?"

 

 

 

Surprised, she quickly turned around and was literally staring straight up into a pair of stern looking grey eyes.

 

 

 

She could see his copper hair under his crown and some stubble on his chin.

 

 

 

She did not know how to answer the unimpressed king.

 

 

 

"I... I'm sorry.. your majesty" was all she could muster. She was so embarrassed. His harsh tone in the question revealed that he was very displeased, and she expected to be dismissed immediately. 

 

 

 

He was examine her like the other girls, looking surprised by her simple outfit and lack of any extravagant accessories. 

 

 

 

Suddenly the young man who had placed her in the row was standing by her side, not saying anything but just looking up at the king.

 

 

 

The king looked back and forth between the two of them with a slightly unimpressed expression. 

 

 

 

Then he went back to a resolute glance as he looked up to the man in the leather armor still standing on the plateau. The king made a small nod and then he walked back up to the front.

 

 

 

"Everybody out now!" the commander still standing on the plateau ordered with a loud voice.

 

 

 

Confused the crowd started to follow his order, not wanting to be disobedient to his commands. 

 

 

 

She was about to walk out as well, when the young man with his lifted hand indicated her to stay.

 

 

 

Confused by the whole situation she just stood there silently as the hall slowly emptied.

 

 

 

Was the king going to punish her for laughing? Maybe he thought it was him she was laughing off? 

 

 

 

How could she explain, when she didn't even really understand it herself?

 

 

 

Many questions crossed her mind, like when she was ever getting out of the palace. She really just wanted to go home.

 

 

 

"Follow me, my lady." She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the dark curly haired man in the leather armor who was now standing in front of her.

 

 

 

He was sending her a calming smile, and she started to think that maybe they weren't going to hang her? Not yet at least.

 

 

 

She smiled a little careful smile back but didn't know what to answer. Yes? No thanks? Are you going to kill me? 

 

 

 

Therefore, she just didn't say anything and started to follow the man. She noticed that they walked out the door the king had enter the room through.

 

 

 

She did not know when the king or the sweet young man had left the room, but both had disappeared. She decided it wisest to follow the man in the leather armor around, as he let them through some corridors. She had noticed that he was carrying a very impressive sword at his side and she did not feel like wanting to test his skill in its use.

 

 

 

"This way, m'lady." He showed her into a nice looking room with couches and bookshelves. 

 

 

 

"Someone will shortly come by, just tell them if you need anything." He then stated and looked to be leaving her alone in the room.

 

 

 

"Sorry, can I ask one question before you go?" She finally got the courage to ask before he had disappeared completely out of the door.

 

 

 

"Yes of course m'lady. What is it?" The man friendly answered as he turned towards her.

 

 

 

"What is going to happen to me?" She slowly asked looking expectant at him.

 

 

 

"I thought that was clear from what just happened in the throne room?" He answered a bit confused.

 

 

 

She must had looked worried by his answer, because then he seemed to understand.

 

 

 

"You are not in any trouble, m’ lady."  He laughed. "If that is what you fear?"

 

 

 

Relived she sighed, glad for not being in any apparent distress.

 

 

 

"You have just been chosen to be the Queen of Coprius."

 

 

 

"WHAT?" That was all she could say as the man turned around walking out the room, leaving her alone. "But I wasn't even appointed..." She couldn't gasp what had just happened to her.

 

 

 

 

~~~

 

2 hours earlier

 

~~~

 

 

 

".... Don't you see? He don't understand what it will do to him. He thinks this will be over quickly and then everything can go back to normal." Jon was trying to explain the conflict he was predicting would arise.

 

 

 

"Of course, but he will soon adapt to it. I'm sure nobody will even notice the change. Anyway, this is not forever..." Christian wasn't biting on the concern Jon tried to feed him as continued to change into the royal attire, and Jon couldn't believe it. 

 

 

 

"How can you say that? It's a marriage for God sake! That is forever! How do you imagine a wife will take it after you abandon her? Harry would never allow you to do anything like that. Definitely not if there are children involved as well" But Jon's words wasn't enough to agitate the king who didn't looked to listen to anything he tried to say.

 

 

 

As his best friend he had hoped that they would had found a way around the absurd rule the counsel had presented to the king earlier that year. For months, they had tried but nothing had led to any clear justification to why the king shouldn't just go through with it. Other than the obvious reason, which was probable the biggest secret in the whole kingdom. Telling the truth would definitely only accelerate the already heavy conflict between some of the high-ranking nobility and the king. 

 

 

 

Being king meant that sometimes you had to make some unpopular decisions Jon knew that. Nevertheless, lately not all of the nobility felt the decisions were the 'right' unpopular ones.  

 

 

 

"At least you have to be honest with her, tell the truth about you and..." Jon tried to argue, but Christian interrupted him while shaking his head laughing of his friend’s ridiculous plan. "Be honest? You want me to tell my biggest secret to some dumb wife I don't even know?" He mocked. "Why don't you just tell the counsel already and start the unavoidable war with them that will certainly end with a termination of my reign if I won’t take up arms against it.”

 

 

 

“I don’t mean right away, but you have to tell her after you have gotten to known her.” Jon explained. “Surely, she will feel that something is of...”

 

 

 

“You mean when I won’t be the charming king she may have fantasied about? When I cannot reflect any feelings she might develop?” Christian sarcastically clarified. “No, she can never know. I will not take any chances, not with a wife or anybody. I’m doing this because I have no other choice, but I won’t let it dictate how I live my life." He looked into the mirror as he stated: "I’m still the king." as he placed the crown on his head.

 

 

 

Jon needed to change his strategy. "You didn't see Harry this morning." He strictly stated. "You did not see how affected he was. His eyes were red and his voice was very far from his normal cheerful tone. I don't know -"

 

 

 

"No, you don't!" Christian cut him short. The irritation was now clear. He was not able to continue without engaging in the disagreement that Jon determinedly wanted to have. "You have absolutely no idea of how it is to live like this." He almost shouted back at Jon. 

 

 

 

"You don't know how it is to have some ancient rule determine who you can or can't spent your life with!" His fury was hiding just underneath the surface. He had been furious ever since the counsel had revealed the old enactment, and their intention to renounce him the crown in the case he had not found a wife before his thirtieth birthday. 

 

 

 

"You have no idea how heartbreaking it is to see the person you love most in the world feel complete inadequate and unwanted, and I have nothing to comfort him with." The despair was clear in his eyes as he looked directly at Jon.

 

 

 

"Jon, I'm the fucking king but I can't make this idiotic hindrance disappear."  

 

 

 

Becoming king had been the easy part for Christian, but staying king was a completely different game. There was a lot of people that needed to believe in the course, and a lot of work done in reassuring unions between partners. 

 

 

 

Unavoidable there had always been doubters on his qualification and accomplishments, but nothing too serious. Until last year, when he expected rumors and speculations had started about the unwedded king, and how reckless and irresponsible it was of him to still not have found a wife. 

 

 

 

The reasoning was, that being wifeless also meant being heirless. The indecisive future of the kingdom made everything distrustful. A few alliances was starting to fall apart as the people began doubted the king and his strength. Turning to violence as a mean to fight of the whispers would have been unfruitful and almost impossible, and would probably just escalate the controversy even further.

 

 

 

So here he was, months later. Standing and staring into the mirror, changing into his formal cloths, doing exactly as the counsel wanted. In a few hours, he would have taken the absurd choice to select some trivial girl to be his wife.  

 

 

 

"Exactly! You are still the king." Jon's words drew him out of the endless thoughts of bitterness and resent. He looked unimpressed at his old friend.

 

 

 

"You are still the one with the final word; you can still make it your decision, not theirs." Jon continued. "At least you have to try, for Harry."

 

 

 

"And how can I make it any better? I still have to choose someone in that room." Christian did not follow where Jon was going with this.

 

 

 

"Yes, but they haven't said that you can't set some demands or requirements." Jon explained. "They may have sent out the invitations, but you are the one that actually make the choice." 

 

 

 

"What demands could make any of this better?" Christian still had the irritated tone on. 

 

 

 

"I'll help you choose." 

 

 

 

Both Jon and Christian looked at the doorway none of them had noticed when Harry had entered the large dressing room.

 

 

 

They both could see how heavily affected Harry was by the whole dismay, but also saw a hint of determination in his eyes.

 

 

 

"I don't think that is a good idea, my dear." Christian answered surprised, and Jon continued: "You have no reason to be in that room Harry, why would you pain yourself like that?"

 

 

 

"I want to be there." Harry pleaded as he walked closer to Christian. "I think I'll feel better knowing who you chose, instead of sitting alone somewhere not knowing what is going on." He was standing just in front of him now.

 

  

 

Christian just signed. "Don't do it," Jon said as he looked between the two of them. "It'll only make the whole thing more painful, for both of you." They weren't even looking at Jon, only at each other.

 

 

 

"What ideas do you have then?" Christian asked Harry, already knowing that there was no point in trying to change the boy’s strong-willed mind.

 

 

 

Harry smiled a small wearisome smile up at Christian, but his eyes finally started to show a hint of the smart boy Christian loved so deeply.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one almost wrote itself, I did it in one go.... o.O
> 
> More action will come soon!


	3. Into the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More characters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be awesome!

 

 

 

The water was starting to soak her rope, but she barely noticed. The coolness made no difference to her, as she already felt completely cold inside.

 

 

 

Harry Styles was her best friend in the palace. He knew all her secrets. Secrets about how she was trying not to fall in love with Christian and failing, how she at times felt so alone and lost. There was so much that they shared. She had at a point questioned him about lovers, and he had hesitantly told her there had been one that he wasn't allowed to be with. She had thought it was a matter of titles because she knew Harry came from a family without any rank.

 

 

 

She felt like the stupidest person in the whole world.

 

 

 

How could she be so clueless about what was apparently going on right in front of her?

 

 

 

She felt impossible more alone than ever before in her life. 

 

 

 

When she had fled the room, Jon Snow had caught up to her in the hallway just past the guards. He had seized her arm forcing her to stop and turn around. 

 

 

 

"Please, my Queen, listen to me." He had tried but she wasn't having any of it. 

 

 

 

“Tell me one thing Jon and be honest with me for once.” She had asked him heatedly, tears still running down her cheeks.

 

 

 

“I have no idea about what is going on in that room, but tell me one thing: Tell me that it’s not love, that they don't love each other.” The surprise in Jon's eyes had been clear to detect. Normally he could be very difficult to read but this time it had been crystal-clear how uncomfortable he was, as he had let go of her arm without answering her question. 

 

 

 

“Tell me that it was just this one time?” She had asked again while looking desperately into his eyes, but all he had done was stand there silently looking at her as if he had been begging her not to be asking him these questions.

 

 

 

“Tell me it hasn’t been going on for a long time?” She this time she had begged him as more tears had started to appear in the corner of her eyes. 

 

 

 

“Please tell me that this didn’t happen before I was even here?” The despair had been clear in her voice.

 

 

 

His silence had been all she needed to confirm her worst fear.

 

 

 

Just like that, she had turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the sleeping castle. Jon had not followed her further. He knew he would have nothing to calm her with, nothing to say that would make any of it less real, less hurtful. And he knew that there was nowhere she could run to, other than the safe area of the palace.

 

 

 

She didn't notice where to she had been running until she suddenly had been at the gate that led out into the large palace garden.

 

 

 

She had opened the door, and looked up into the blackness of the night. It had been raining.

 

 

 

The fresh air had felt somehow comforting to her, and she had started to step out into the darkness. She had felt the raindrops on her face and liked how it calmed her down a little.

 

 

 

Wet dots had started to cover her cloths as she had walked aimlessly out on the grass. Her thoughts had been running wild in her mind. She had felt so lost. Her heart had felt like it was broken into a million pieces, and she did not know what to think or do about what she had witnessed. There had been a couple of people scattered around in the red room, but she couldn't understand why.  

 

 

 

Deep in her own thoughts, she had ended up at the bank of the garden lake. 

 

 

 

As she had looked into the dark water, all she had seen was her black fluctuating shadow.  

 

 

 

The rain had started to poor more, but she had just collapsed at the edge of the water. Her hair was sticking to her face and shoulders, but her misery had completely shot down any reasonable thinking, and now she just sat there starring into nothing. 

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

He had been watching her since she had entered the garden.

 

 

 

He had been scouting ahead of the others, and was checking if anybody was around when the door had suddenly opened. He had expected to see guards on patrol and had readied his bow, pointing the arrow towards the entrance. He had been quite surprised to see the young woman run out into the rain.

 

 

 

She had looked up into the sky and seemed to welcome the water on her face. It was clear that she was in some kind of distress, and why else would a noble woman in her fine cloths run out into the soaking rain?

 

 

 

Not that he had any experience with noble women so far, but maybe he was about to get some now. Some real intimate experience. A mischievous smile grew on his face - but he needed to remind himself of their mission, but she could be a clue to get the thing they were really here for. She could become very handy, and she probably knew the palace.

 

 

 

He had followed her to the small lake, and was now weighing his next step. 

 

 

 

They had a mission to follow. The plan was clear, but not complete. Somehow he felt drawn toward this unknown troubled girl, that could possible be the last piece they needed to succeed.

 

 

 

Why was that? It wasn't just some pitiful sentiment, it was something else. He knew himself too well to not ignore his instincts, they were usually dead right.   

 

 

 

And right now his instincts was telling him that the noble girl was important. 

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

She was looking into the water of the lake. The shade of her was very blurry as the water shifted in the rain. She had no more tears, was just sitting silently there.

 

 

 

Suddenly she saw another cloudy shadow appearing next to hers in the water.  

 

 

 

"Hello, little one." It was a man's voice. She felt very alarmed with his sudden appearance.

 

 

 

She turned around quickly while trying to get up at the same time, but completely lost her balance in the hurry as the rain had made the ground rather slippery. She was always so clumsy she shortly complained for herself. 

 

 

 

As she was about to fall backwards into the lake, the man quickly extended his bow towards her. She gripped it quickly and with the strong bow to hold onto, she regained her footing in the wet grass. 

 

 

 

She looked up at the unknown man, that confidently retracted his bow back over his shoulder. 

 

 

 

He was a young man who was wearing a chain mail armor under a leather cover. She noticed that he was heavily armed not only with the large bow but also a sword and an ax in his belt. He sure did not look anything like of the guards that normally patrolled the castle, and she feared that he was an intruder looking for treasure in the palace - or maybe people to kill. Her imagination was running to fast for her. 

 

 

 

He definitely looked like a very dangerous man to agitate. She needed to be careful with her next move, since she didn’t have anything to guard herself with. 

 

 

 

They were both completely soaked in the rain. She couldn't see much else in the shy moonlight that were allowed through the raining clouds, other than his eyes. They shined with the most intense blue color she had ever seen, even in the darkness, it was clear to see the intense stare he radiated as he looked at her.

 

 

 

"Well, don't I get any gratitude for helping you?" The man asked as he looked to be examine her appearance as well.

 

 

 

"Gratitude? For scaring me? You could've easily have announced your present from a longer distance than just behind me." She bid back, trying to not let him sense how nervous she was. Whoever he was, she was not thanking him too early before she even knew his intentions. What was an armor dressed man doing in the royal garden in the middle of the night?   

 

 

 

He send her some ambivalent grin, as if he was thinking the same thing about her. "Do you live here in the pretty little castle? What are a sweet little thing like you doing out here in the rain?" He then asked her ignoring her accusation.

 

 

  
  
She put her arms around her front as she was standing there in her wet clothing, as to try to protect herself from his gaze. To avoid his question she answered him another one: "What brings a warrior out in the royal garden in the middle of the night? What are your purpose here?"

 

 

  
He smirked at her. "Ha ha, avoiding my questions I seen. Well, I’m here because…” he paused shortly. “Because I have come to collect a thing for a friend." He vaguely stated. 

 

 

  
"What thing?" She asked while looking at him suspiciously. She was just trying to keep the conversation going while trying to think of a way out. She was considering whether she could escape this man by running but decided on not taking any chances, yet. 

 

 

 

He did not answer her question with anything other than a presumptuously silent smile.  Apparently, the mistrust was genuine between them. "You are an intruder on the royal grounds.” She cautiously stated. “How did you get in here in the first place?" She then tried to ask him.

 

 

  
"The storm was a nice cover for the hole we made in the wall." He answered in a genuinely tone, without disagreeing with her on being an intruder.

 

 

 

She could not figure out if he was actually telling the truth, because it sounded too crazy to be real. "You made a hole in the thick palace wall?!" She asked doubtfully. 

 

 

 

"Maybe." He just replied with a nonchalant face. "Maybe not." She told herself not to trust a single word he was saying, as he sounded completely incoherent. 

 

 

  
"And where does this hole lead to?" She then asked inquisitively.

 

 

 

"What does it matter to you, Little One?" He mischievously asked as he used his hand to remove some of all the rain in his face. She was getting quite annoyed with the nickname, but did not comment on it.

 

 

 

  
"Do you by any chance want to escape from something? Why would a noble woman like you want to leave this wonderful palace?” He mockingly asked her, the sarcasm clear in his voice.

 

 

 

“That’s private.” She claimed and continued: “Don’t ask me, and then I won’t ask you why you are really here.” She hoped it was enough. She did not want to threaten him with anything to seriously, like calling for help. The idea had occurred to her, but in the heavy rain with on one close by, her screams would had been pointless.

 

 

 

“Then, let's make a deal." He proposed. "I'll help you escape this place, but first you most do something for me." 

 

  
  
"I don't make deals with criminals." She had coldly stated. 

 

 

 

"But am I the only one doing a wrong thing here?" He tried to reason with her. "If you want to get out, there got to be a reason for it, right? Are you even allowed to leave? Would you be breaking some rule by leaving? Are you then much different from me? I am simply a rule-breaker like you." He contemplated. "Therefore, we have actually very much in common." He contemptuously concluded.

 

 

 

"I'm not anything like you." She sharply replied. "We are not alike. I'm..." but she couldn't go on. She did not want to reveal her identity to this intruding stranger. Who was to say what he would do to her, if she told him the truth? 

 

 

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted as two young men appeared out from the small forest that was in the eastern part of the garden. The palace garden was actually quite a big place, with many different areas, like the lake and small forests. 

 

 

 

"Ivar, hvad fanden har du gang i her?" One of the new appearing men asked the man that she had been speaking with.

 

 

 

She did not recognize the language at all, but the irritation was clear to detect in his voice.

 

 

 

"Vi har en klar plan, din plan og vi bliver nød til at skynde os." The newcomer continued with the same angry tone. 

 

 

  
"Slap af Ubbe," The man calmly answered.

 

 

 

As they continued their discussion, the two new men pointed accusingly at her and back at the first man. She did not understand at all what was going on, and she started to examine the three men all together more closely. The moonlight had turned up a bit while the rain was decreasing.

 

 

  
They were wearing armors but they did not look like normal soldiers. The hair was braided and their weapons included bows, axes, knives and swords. They had a fierce look in their eyes, and a wild flare from their posture. And then they were talking this weird language. 

 

 

  
The conclusion she came to frighten her more than she wanted to admit.

 

 

  
"You are Vikings." She said taken aback. It wasn't a question, as the result of her analysis was completely clear to her.

 

 

  
She had grown up hearing terrifying stories about Vikings and their evil ways. According to the tales they were the most wild, crazy and dangerous fighters that existed. Gold and women were their only goals in life. Some stories even told how Vikings were the most untrustworthy people keen on betraying their own friends and families for riches. They would kill and rape endlessly during raids. The stories were endless about the cruelty of the Vikings. She had heard a lot of them as a child, and even though she tried to reason with how the stories probably wasn't all true, she couldn't get rid of the fearful shiver that went down her spine.

 

 

  
The three men stopped their heated incomprehensive discussion and looked at her. The first man 'Ivar' she thought his name was from the little she had gotten from their conversation had a smug smile on.

 

 

   
"You are very clever, Little One". 'Ivar' mocked and looked very self-satisfied with her sudden showing anxiety and continued. "I guess this is your first encounter with Vikings? Don't be scarred. We are only about half as bad as the stories goes." He laughed.

 

 

  
She needed to stay cool. She didn't wanted to look as scared as she really felt, as she feared it would only agitate them and result in violence. Again, she told herself that the old stories were just trying to spook her.

 

 

  
"Come on Ivar, we need to make a move before anybody discovers that we are actually here." It was the third man who voiced his concern, this time in a language she knew. 

 

 

 

He looked at them; “for once I will agree with you, Hvitserk,” and then back at her. “But I fear that our plan is already doomed.” He turned around and investigate the castle and their surroundings, where more lights was being lit.

 

 

 

 As his movement were a little perturbed, she noticed that the man called Ivar were actually wearing some kind of braces to support both his legs, while he used his bow for support.

 

 

 

'a cripple' she told herself, but by the looks of it, he had chosen not to let it hinder him in any way. He looked as strong and capable as the two other young impressive men did.    

 

 

  
"It's too late." Ivar irritably stated pulling her out from her own thoughts. The two other men seemed very displeased with the outcome.

 

 

 

He turned back towards his accomplices. "Something has awaken the palace earlier than normal." They all looked calculated at her. It was as if they were weighing what value she could have, if the disturbance was because of her.

 

 

 

 "I'm not important if that is what you think?" She honestly told them. "My husband does not care about me at all, or the slightest about what I'm doing. Would you believe that if I had any value, anyone would just allow me to be out here?" Her words were so genuine; she really did believe in them herself. 

 

 

 

As if Ivar decided to believe in the truth in her words, he looked at her. "So do we have a deal then? Are you coming with us?" He asked.

 

 

 

Thankful for the trust, she looked back at the castle. Some activity was going on inside, and she shortly wondered if it really was her they were looking for. Nevertheless, why would they? She didn't matter to anyone in there, she only had that stupid hollow title. She was done with feeling like the biggest disappointment in the world.

 

 

 

It was about time she took the lead in her own life she reasoned. She wanted nothing more than to leave that place, which had nothing to offer but heartache and loneliness. 

 

 

 

With that, she looked quickly down at her right hand. Her wedding ring was displaying a white diamond. It felt so symbolic for her marriage. How pretty it looked on the outside, but how it only represented something completely cold and lifeless.

 

 

 

She carefully took the ring of her finger and dropped it in the grass without the Vikings noticing as they were discussing something again. Clearly Ivar's offer of bringing her with them was not well received with the two others.

 

 

 

With a big relief she turned back towards Ivar and said shortly; "Deal."

 

 

 

Ivar silenced his companions with a hiss and gave her a small content smile. He then turned around and started to walk quickly back into the forest. His body moved in an almost unperturbed way. He had a direction towards the palace wall in the east side. 

 

 

 

She followed him with the two other men just behind her.

 

 

 

She looked back towards the castle one last time. It was like she tried to reassure herself if she was doing the right thing and wanted to check that no one was running out in the garden after her, trying to stop her. But no one was there, and she determinedly turned back and walked with the Vikings.

 

 

 

‘This is definitely the craziest thing I have ever done’ she thought to herself. ‘I’m leaving with these complete strangers, Vinkings with tones of weapons. I have no idea of where I’m going, no idea of what they plan to do with me.’ She argued, but something in her heart told her that she was still doing the right thing by leaving the palace.

 

 

 

 ~~~

 

 

 

Up through a castle window, Harry was staring out into the garden with nothing but desperation and regret in his eyes.

 

 

 

Since he had seen the queen running out from the secret room, he had felt like the lowest person in the world. He had completely betrayed his best friend, and she had discovered his secret in the worst possible way. His heart was filled with so much remorse and self-loathing. He had just had a argument with Christian over it, whom he felt was completely undiscerning and totally ignorant about it, and Harry had now angrily locked himself into his room. Christian had resignedly left him alone.

 

 

 

Harry was sitting in the window frame, not really looking at anything specific. Then he looked down towards the lake, as the rain was finally declining.

 

 

 

He spotted the Queen just as she was turning around. He immediately recognized her frame, and couldn't understand what she was doing outside in the horrible weather. Until he reminded himself that, he actually did understand. Then he spotted the other three persons around her, that definitely didn’t look like normal people who would be in the royal garden. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he thought to himself, and started to call out towards his door. 

 

 

 

Even though it was locked Jon Snow kicked in the door as if it did not really matter and came running up to Harry still at the window, asking what was wrong clearly hearing his distress. 

 

 

 

Not far behind him came Christian running as well. 

 

 

 

"Look!" Was all he said panicking as he pointed towards the eastern part of the garden. 

 

 

 

They both quickly looked out just in time to see the queen disappear behind some guy into the furthest forest in the garden. They probably wouldn't have been so worried, if it wasn't for the appearance of the three men walking around her.

 

 

 

They recognizes their clothing and armory just before they disappeared. 

 

 

 

"Fuck!" was all Jon said as he turned around and ran out the door. He was yelling out commands in the hallway to his guards, although he knew it is already too late.

 

 

 

"What is it?" Harry asks with a heavy heart while looking at Christian. "Who are they?"

 

 

 

Christian looked at him with a infuriated impression.

 

 

 

"Vikings." He bitterly answered while turning away from the window and quickly walked out of the room.

 

 

 

‘What have I done’ Harry thought as he looked back out into the darkness. 'It's all because of me.' He blamed himself, as tears started to run down his cheeks.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would really mean a big deal to me - as I have no idea if anybody actually likes what I'm writing.
> 
> This story is sort of a thing that have been on my mind forever, now I wanted to collect my thoughts and write it out..  
> Let's hope it turns into something half decent *fingers crossed*


	4. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like to write summaries of chapters (as you might have discovered by now).
> 
>  
> 
> I don't read them myself, and I won't spoil the story. I think people should have the chance to be surprised of how things evolves. ;)

 

 

 

It was still dark in the citadel.

 

 

 

She was starting to shiver since her cloths were drenched from the rain, and it didn't help that they were riding hastily through the streets of the capital.

 

 

 

She was standing in Ivar's carriage pulled by one strong horse, holding on for her dear life to the side. Behind Hvitserk and Ubbe were following them on their horses. 

 

 

 

There hadn't been much introduction yet. 

 

 

 

"These two boneheads are my brothers." Ivar had shortly told her, as they had hurried out through the small hole in the palace wall. "Ubbe, with the long gangling pigtail." He had said as he had nodded towards the tallest of the men. He had his dark blond hair in a long thick braid running to the middle of his back.

 

 

 

"And the filthy beast over there," Ivar had continued as he pointed towards his other brother who had been about to mount his horse, "Is Hvitserk."

 

 

 

Hvitserk had smiled at her ignoring his brother’s insult. He had some of his ash brown hair in smaller braids tied together at his back. "And that ugly bastard beside you is our baby brother, Ivar." He told her while throwning his leg over the horse. Ivar had also his dark brown hair braided, but the style were different. He had multiple twisted rows along his scalp that ended just at the base of his neck.

 

 

 

She could see that they had been expecting her to introduce herself then, but luckily she was interrupted as they had heard warning noises from horns. The Vikings expected that someone had discovered them in the garden, and feared that time was running out. They shortly explained that they needed to get out of the outer city gates before too many alarmed soldiers was blocking the way.

 

 

 

Luckily, there were not many people in the narrow streets this early in the morning. The sun hadn't even set yet. 

 

 

 

As they were approaching the guarded gate, Ivar had commanded her to take the reins as he had afterwards steadied his bow. He had quickly fired an arrow over the gate, and she hadn't understood the point of it. 

 

 

 

Then, as they had pulled out onto the main street leading directly to the gate, she saw warriors appearing from behind the gate.

 

 

 

Arrows were flying in the air from bows, as the first few fighters carefully climbed down and started to cut the throats of the surprised guards. Everything was done as soundless as possible, and the warriors silenced the soldiers so they could not alert the rest of the city.

 

 

 

After terminating the first few soldiers nearest to the gate, the warriors had quickly opened the huge doors up. Then, a lot more fighters entered through the opening cutting down with little resistance the few soldiers left. Still no alarms were set off, and the warriors were carefully dragging the dead bodies away from the open.

 

 

 

They could hear from behind them that more soldiers were coming, undoubtedly being sent from the castle. Ivar took back the reins from her and hurried his horse to run faster. She almost felt out of the carriage do to the sudden acceleration and she grabbed and held tight around Ivar's chest. The rapid movement were very bumpy on the paved roads. 

 

 

 

Arriving with high speed at the gate the fighters had cleared the way, and they could continue through the opening without losing much momentum.

 

 

 

With a closer but still brief look at the fighters surrounding the gate, she could recognize the same clothing and equipment as the brothers wore. Of course, they were Vikings as well. She hadn't expected anything else from the skilled but brutal handling of the guards at the gateway. However, she was not feeling terrified by what she saw more curious, and that scared her a little.

 

 

 

Out of the narrow streets of the citadel, they again accelerated their riding rate, but the Vikings back at the gate did not follow. 

 

 

 

"What about the men at the gate?" She asked Ivar whom she was still holding tight onto as she carefully looked back over her shoulder towards the gate. They rapidly increased the distance to the stronghold.

 

 

 

 "They have chosen to stay behind and fight." Ivar said proudly. "When the sun sets they will feast in the halls of Valhalla."

 

 

 

She looked surprised at him. "They are sacrificing their lives for you?" She skeptically asked.

 

 

 

Ivar laughed as he found her question naive, but corrected her then. "No, Little One. Not for us, but for the cause." He explained. "Our all-father Odin welcomes all that has died in battle into his glorious halls. You could not wish for a better death than that." 

 

 

 

She still did not quite understand why anybody would want to die like that, but decided it better not to ask too many questions. 

 

 

 

Riding in the open land made her shiver even more than before in the enclosed city streets. Ivar must have noticed because he handed her a smaller black fur that had been laying in the carriage. 

 

 

 

She thanked him for the kind gesture, and wrapped the shielding fur as close around herself as she could.

 

 

 

She kept a tight hold around Ivar. The heat radiating from the strong mans body was a great comfort. Somehow, his present made her relax and not worry too much about the turn her life had taken. 

 

 

 

She looked a final time back at the city that had been her home for the past year. As they increased the distance to it, the enormous place grew smaller and smaller. Soon it would disappear completely from her sight and she would not know when or if she would ever see it again. The fought of leaving her old life behind was partly scarring, but she was determined to get as far away as possible from the people who had broken her heart and trust. 

 

 

 

She felt nothing for the cold stone walls that had been her home. It wasn't something she had chosen, and she definitely would not miss the nobility or the other superficial people living there. She was done with it all, and ready for a new beginning.

  

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

After many days of speedy riding with only minor breaks, they had finally reached the Viking camp that her company had aimed for. 

 

 

 

It was definitely a Viking habitat. That much was clear to her, already miles away when they had begun to encounter the first scouts and outposts. If it was not for the terrifying weaponry and armory, the fierce looks or violent behavior had been enough of an indicator. They were like animals in so many ways: As if fighting was all they lived for. It was all so brutal. However, she could not deny a sudden interest that was growing inside her. Maybe because everything was the complete opposite of what she was so accustomed with?

 

 

 

Sleep had been scarce on the move.

 

 

 

She had changed position as guest rider between the brothers, but mostly been in Ivar's one-horse open carriage. They had only stopped a couple of times, like when they had changed horses to fresh ones, or to eat at smaller breaks.

 

 

 

There had been no sign of anyone following them. They had not seen or heard any indications. it seemed that the fighters at the gate had done a perfect job.

 

 

 

Fortunately, they had stopped at a small village the first day, given her the chance to change into dry cloths. Ubbe had surprised her with the pants and a shirt that he had bought for her, nothing special but dry!

 

 

 

She felt beyond thankful and relieved for the complete unexpected kindness he had shown. The clothes had been a little oversized, however when she used a leather strap, that Hvitserk had offered her, as a belt it was a much better cover than the soaked thin cloths she had had on before. She still wore the black fur from Ivar as a coat atop it.

 

 

 

She had given her old wet close to a poor girl that lived on the street, hoping that she could either use it or sell the valuable items. She had only kept a smaller strap from the rope, that she had torn off. It had some of the golden embroiderer on. She had tied some of her hair up with it, keeping it away from her eyes. 

 

 

 

The kind act was some of the small things she was learning about the brothers, as they moved quickly through the country. They told her that they were sons of the infamous Ragnar Lothbrok. She had heard many stories about the monstrous Ragnar growing up, but told herself that the storytellers probably was exaggerating a lot. Surely, no man could have done that many terrifying things.

 

 

 

It was just before nightfall when they had arrived at the camp and the sky had a purple shading. 

 

 

  
Cheering Vikings were greeting them as they had entered the camp, and Ubbe and Hvitserk had jumped down from their horses running to their men laughing and chanting, quickly receiving large cups of ale. It was like seeing their cheering friends made them shortly forget how extremely exhausted they were. The stamina of Vikings astonished her.

 

 

 

She had carefully gone down from the carriage followed by a tired Ivar, but he tried his best to look as strong and composed as his brothers. Cups of ale had too been offered.

 

 

 

Ivar emptied the cup in one go. She took a good swing from hers, welcoming the sweet taste after the long intense journey.

 

 

 

After Ivar had thrown the empty cup away, one of his men had offered him two crutches. He had accepted with relief clear in his face. The intense days ridding while standing in the carriage had been hard on his crippled legs.

 

 

 

More men had gathered around Ivar, and he were briefly reporting to them in their own language. Then he clearly told them to get lost, as the men left the two of them alone quickly.

 

 

 

He looked at her. "Come with me, Little One. You can rest in my tent." He offered as he nodded in the direction of his tent. She could hear that it was a genuine offer of sleep, and she felt extremely relieved as she accepted it.

 

 

 

She followed behind Ivar between tents as he walked quickly with his crutches.

 

 

 

Suddenly, she was abruptly stopped as a hand grabbed her from behind, forcing her to turn around. 

 

 

  
"Since we didn't get what we came for at the palace, you will have to make up for it." Hvitserk threatened with a wicked smile as he had a firm grip on her arm, holding her close to his face. 

 

 

  
As she was getting her footing, Ivar looked back over his shoulder. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He voiced looking uninterested at his brother.

 

 

 

 "Shot up, Iv.... rrgh" but Hvitserk did not get to finish the sentence, as she had turned his grip back around and now had his arm behind his back, and a knife at his throat.

 

 

    
Hvitserk looked surprised at her, with his chin up trying to avoid the cold touch of the blade. To him, it was as if she had drawn the knife magically out from thin air.

 

 

 

“I DO NOT HAVE TO DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, MORON.” She yelled at him, as she was boiling inside with rage for his actions.

 

 

  
"Do NOT mistake me for one of your slave girls, _Viking_." she hissed pressing the knife a little closer to his skin. "You better remember that I chose to follow you boys here, and believe me when I say that I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself." She told him as she angrily looked at him.

 

 

 

"Don't mistake me for some defenseless girl that you can have fun with whenever you feel like it." She warned him breaking his skin just enough to let a small drop of blood fall. "I'll chose IF or WHEN I will share your bed _Viking_. I do not care who you are the son of. I have had enough of hollow titles in my life to care about them."

 

 

  
"Are we clear, _Viking_?" She asked him as she was staring anticipating up into Hvitserk's eyes. Other Vikings were observing the little incident, hands ready to pull out their weapons but Ivar gave them a signal to stand down.

 

 

 

Hvitserk stood frozen as he had an impossible mix in his eyes between being outraged and amazed.

 

 

 

Slowly she let go of his arm, but was still holding the knife up. She really needed to get used to the ruthless ways of the Vikings, but threads seemed to work somehow well with them. She internally thanked her older brother at home for teaching her self-defense as they grew up.

 

 

   
Hvitserk surprised them all as he started laughing and looked to Ivar. "Good luck with this woman brother. I'll pray to the gods that you'll survive the first night with her in your tent." He joked. "Even Godess Freya must envy her fury." 

 

 

 

With that, he backed away from her giving a small nod goodbye, and turned around leaving them alone.

 

 

 

As Hvitserk and the surrounding Vikings had disappeared, she lowered the dagger and looked back at Ivar. 

 

 

 

"You knew I had the knife this whole time and didn't do anything about it?" She looked suspiciously at him while setting her black fur back in order as the whole affair had twisted it around.

 

 

 

"Obviously." he said while lifting one eyebrow and displaying a smug smile on his face. "I saw you take it from Ubbe when you were riding with him the other day." Ivar answered truthfully. "I thought it was a temporary good idea to just let you keep it; in case my small minded brothers or others were gonna behave as.. well, Vikings." He clarified while laughing lowly. "Apparently, I was right." He smirked a very presumptuous smile.

 

 

  
"But that's not all." A thought hit her. "You were so self-assured that if I decided to use it against you, you wouldn't have any trouble with taking me on, even though you know nothing about me?" She saw right through his smugness. "You arrogant discerning bastard." 

 

 

  
Ivar felt at the same time anxious and excited about her notion, but did not display any hints of it. He looked at her and gave just an uncaring lift with his shoulders as response. It irritated him how much it affected him to learn more about her, this complete stranger they had found in the palace garden. About as much as it excited him to see her kick down his brother’s pride. He told himself that he needed to break out of whatever spell she had over him before it got the better of him. He needed to scare her away and prove that she meant nothing to him.

 

 

 

"Maybe it’s unwise of you to offend the only person here in this gigantic camp that won't just drag you into the nearest tent and rape you, girl." Ivar annoyingly stated looking at her with an intense stare as to remind her of the delicate situation she was in. "Good luck with trying to fight them all at once." He snared. "My dump brother might be easy to scare the first time, but now he knows better." 

 

 

 

He was right, and she knew it. He turned around and continued walking with the crutches towards his tent. "Maybe you shouldn't underestimate me so much." she bit back quietly, but followed him on his way, not sure, if he heard her or chose to ignore her.

 

 

  
"Hvitserk will definitely only take it as a challenge now." Ivar stated as he walked into his tent. He didn’t need to explain what he meant, she understood completely that for Hvitserk it was now a game to get her to his bed. One way or another.

 

 

 

She followed inside as Ivar continued. "It's the sadist in him. He likes it when girls fight him and enjoy hurting them. Maybe around as much as he likes sharing them with Ubbe. They have this weird thing…" He tried to explain, but clearly did know exactly how.

 

 

 

She had already sensed that there was a different bond between Ubbe and Hvitserk, than with the younger brother. The two of them seemed very close, always sticking together. Personality wise they seemed much different from Ivar and they definitely had a deep respect and maybe even hint of resentment towards their younger crippled brother. Also, it clearly seemed as if Ivar often had the last say in things, and this controlling behavior of the youngest brother was possible also coursing some dispute between them. 

 

 

 

She guessed there was a lot of history that she did not know. Being raised as 'son's of a mighty Viking' must have put a lot of pressure on the brothers, and all seemed to have responded differently to that weight.

 

 

 

She looked around in the smaller tent. There was two areas. A big bed was standing in one area with a bench beside it, and a small table with chairs was in the other side. Ivar was standing by one of the chairs with only one crutch at hand starting to ready himself for sleep by undressing.

 

 

 

"I know." She just said as she sat down on the bench. "I guess I didn't expect much more from a Viking." She immediately regretted her words and looked up at Ivar with guilt in her eyes, but he only looked slightly irritated at her. 

 

 

 

"I would stop with that kind of thinking if I were a  stranger in a Viking army." He advised her as he was taking of his extensive equipment. "Besides," he noticed as he pull out two knifes from his belt. "You could end up getting some dangerous enemies who would show you the real ways of the Vikings." He threw the knifes so fast that she didn't see them before they had landed with a loud crack. They were exactly besides her hands on each side of her on the bench. He shocked her by his precision, and he did it without ever breaking eye contact. 

 

 

 

"You know, for educational purposes of course." He joked after breaking the gaze as he turned around and continued the undressing of the leather belts and strops, leaning up against the table. He took of the leather armor and then he pulled the heavy chain mail over his head, making a lot of noise as it felt to the floor.

 

 

 

She just sad there still baffled by his talent, until she started to pull the two blades out of the bench putting them carefully on the floor. She was accustomed to working with knifes but not anything like what he had shown in that split of a second. 

 

 

 

She finally began untying her boots, the last thing from her palace attire. She took them of, and enjoyed the release on her feet after the three days of confinement.

 

 

 

While massaging her sore feet she sat there thinking about all the things she had left behind in the citadel. Regret starting to hunt her distressed mind.

 

 

 

As if Ivar could read her mind (it probably wasn't that hard to do in the moment), he sat down on the bed across from her.

 

 

 

"You will see that life can be so much more than what you left behind, Little One." He looked at her with a very serious face. She couldn't decide if he was really telling her, or himself this. Anyway, it was a bit too late (and too far away) to get cold feet now. 

 

 

 

"Let's get some sleep." Ivar said after taking her silence as a form of agreement, and swung his legs up on the bed. He started to undo the straps around his legs, and then he moved to one side of the bed after having tossed the braces on the floor beside the bed.

 

 

 

She took off and then placed the black fur Ivar had given her on the first day on the bench, and then she hesitated. 

 

 

 

"What is wrong, Little One?" Ivar asked her with a crooked smile. Of course, he could understand if she felt a little misplaced in the new situation.

 

 

 

 "I have never been alone with a man, other than my husband..." She could not finish the sentence.

 

 

 

"When you were fucking?" Ivar stated bluntly, feeling amused by her sudden shyness. "Are you worried about getting your reputation ruined by a crippled Viking?" He joked as he laughed. She was blushing and felt like an inexperienced child.

 

 

 

"Are you worried that I would do something alike what Hvitserk had in mind?" He asked as he tilted his head a bit smiling a pending smile. 

 

 

 

"I'm just used to being alone." She calmly answered and exhaled. 

 

 

 

"You will have to adjust to the Viking way from now on." He tiredly told her "But right now, I'm getting closer to the underworld of Hel by each second I'm still awake, so I will rest and then we can continue this _exciting_ conversation." He sarcastically stated.

 

 

 

With that, Ivar laid down onto his half of the bed and turned his back to her side, covering himself in a blanket. “I’m done.” He simply said as he clearly was extremely exhausted.

 

 

 

 'Well I guess that's it then'. She thought as she went over to the bed. She carefully sat on the covers, but soon climbed in under them completely drained from any energy. 

 

 

 

She kept the rest of her cloths on, didn't even undo the leather strap around her middle, partly as a insurance but mostly because she was too tired to do anything about it. 

 

 

 

Her knife that she had stolen from Ubbe was just beside her. She tucked it under her pillow. It was still too early in their acquaintance to determined if she really trusted Ivar, but she really needed rest, so this was the best solution her shattered mind could come up with.

 

 

 

She needed to figure out where she was going after her Viking company had brought her here, to this huge and very terrifying camp. She only knew that she definitely wasn't staying there for as long as they would figure out who she really was. 

 

 

 

Killing Ivar right now and trying to escape the extensive unfamiliar camp seemed like a bad idea at the moment, and she had no energy left for any of it. He had done nothing than trying to prove that she could trust him, but not in an over suspicious way. She didn’t trust him yet, and warned herself of every trusting a Viking.

 

 

 

Sleep started to blur her mind, finally giving her the rest she very much needed.

 

 

 

'Tomorrow, I'll make a plan...' was the last coherent thought she had before finally surrendering to sleep. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter was a little longer on the way. (But I guess that four chapters in one month isn't that bad..)
> 
>  
> 
> Being a parent to a two year-old is exhausting, and I'm not left with a lot of energy at the end of the day.  
>  
> 
> But be patient the updates will come! (I just can't guarantee when ..... )


	5. Unavoidable Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little back in time, again... ^_^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just a filler chapter, but we needed it for some background.
> 
>  
> 
> Also the shortest so far... o.O

 

 

 

After having being chosen to be his wife, she had not seen Christian until the evening before their wedding.

 

 

 

He had clearly been drinking, as the smell of alcohol was think in the air.

 

 

 

She had been sent to her room early that day, since it had been decided for her that she needed to get all the rest she could before the big day. Off course, she was completely awake and had been for many hours.

 

 

 

It had been very chaotic being introduced to living at the palace. Since two weeks ago, her life had been just fine as it was, but now she had been chosen to be the woman that the king would marry.

 

 

 

She still could not quite understand it, and 'Queen' was definitely not a title she would get used to in that short amount of time. It still all seemed so surreal. 

 

 

 

People from the staff and servants had been extremely busy with preparations for the big party. Nobody had apparently believed that a real royal wedding was underway, since that meant that the king would actually do something that the counsel had asked of him. At least not something like this, which he had opposed this strongly.

 

 

 

So now, everyone from the lowest staff section to the highest-ranking officers and members of the nobility had been taken completely off guard, and had to plan and execute a fitting royal wedding in less than three weeks.

 

 

 

It seemed almost impossible. 

 

 

 

However, nobody was complaining. This was what everybody had wished for since forever. Finally, the king was settling down and the hope for heirs was exploding.

 

 

 

Even Jon Snow the commander of the king’s personal guard that normally was the most composed man, could be found running around in the huge palace giving commands or receiving news about security issues.  

 

 

 

Literally the whole palace were on edge, but from her view it looked as everything was almost ready for the wedding the next day.

 

 

 

At least that was the feeling she had, as she was laying in her bed in her dark bedroom.

 

 

 

She had been given one room the first day she had been there. Then later, she had been moved into what was apparently more fitting to be the queen's chambers. This was where she was currently trying to fall asleep.

 

 

 

There were what felt like a thousand new people she needed to get to know and a least a million rules and etiquette procedure she needed to learn before the big day. 

 

 

 

All the new faces were a lot to take in, and she mostly just did whatever people said she should do. She tried to avoid making mistakes, but that was hard being in a completely unfamiliar environment. 

 

 

 

She had never wanted to be queen. She had tried to tell that to some of the people around her, but no one was listing. Clearly, her opinion was of little importance. The king had chosen her, and there was close to nothing that could change the strong will of the king.

 

 

 

She had met with her father, who had been behaving in the weirdest way she had ever experienced. She had not really spent much time in her life with him, being a daughter of the second wife meant she was close to last on the considerable long row of heirs to his estates, and had only a minor value as an alliance-maker through a potential marriage. Therefore, she was accordingly low on his attention list.

 

 

 

That had also been the reason why she had not had the same 'proper' education as her half-sisters. It was not fought to be of any importance, and her now late mother had done most by herself.  

 

 

 

She had even been allowed to practice with her brothers, and had probably spent way more time around boys than girls growing up.  

 

 

 

Suddenly now, her father was recognizing her, even being kind to her. However, when she had tried to tell him that she really wanted to get out of the whole thing, he had almost exploded on her. Surely, she would never shame her father in that way, he had scolded her. Of course, she would do exactly as she was told and go through with the wedding and be the perfect obedient _silent_ wife. Her father had been less kind to her after that, but still behaving carefully around her.

 

 

 

 He had been her last thin hope.

 

 

 

Of course, she had not expected anything else from her egocentric father. Having a daughter, even of the second wife, marry the king was the highest honor he would ever had the chance to achieve in his life. He would do anything to ensure that it went through, and definitely not care if this daughter wanted it or not. 

 

 

 

She wished that her mother still had been alive to help her through the whole experience. She had died some years ago in childbirth, together with the child.

 

 

 

She still blamed her selfish father for it, since she knew that he often had visited her mother’s bed, even soon after childbirths or abortions. He did not care about her heath at all. She did not even know how many pregnancies her mother had been through in her life (some completed others ending too soon), but currently they were four living children. She was the oldest one of them.

 

 

 

Of course, she knew that this was just how everyone did, but it only served to prove that she would never want to get married. In addition, she never participated in any marriage-preparing education with her sisters. She feared marriage would only bring an untimely dead upon her, as was the case for her mother.

 

 

 

Now, everything had changed. She was no more in control of her own destiny, not since that boy had pulled her out from the crowd and placed her in that row. Not since the king suddenly had chosen her, even though she had done nothing but trying to prevent this faith.

 

 

 

Nevertheless, the wedding was still on. She could do nothing to prevent it. 

 

 

 

She had really tried to wrap her mind about her new situation after finally accepting that there was no way out. It had not been easy, but she had always been very strong willed. She had forced herself to welcome her new life and home. 

 

 

 

She had even enjoyed some parts of it, like when she had been trying out the wedding dress, taking in all the approving compliments. Clearly, her new staff wanted her to look her best, and she recognized the hard effort they all put into the whole thing. 

 

 

 

She was starting to fantasies about how her life in the palace would be, and fooled herself into thinking she even could find happiness there.

 

 

 

He had been so kind to remind her about the reality of it all. 

 

 

 

It had been late in the evening; most of the people around the palace was probably asleep. 

 

 

 

She had been in bed as well, but nerves and thoughts was still keeping her awake.

 

 

 

Then, she had heard a noise coming from outside her door, and suddenly someone had opened it. 

 

 

 

She had quickly sat up in the bed, but just before she had been ready to scream for help, she recognized the person walking in. 

 

 

 

It was Christian. 

 

 

 

Her very-soon-to-be husband had accessed her bedroom, in the middle of the night the day before their wedding. 

 

 

 

And that maybe had sounded like a romantic gesture, if it wasn't for the fact that he was drunk as hell.

 

 

 

If not the smell had told her, his not so straight walk was a clear indication as well.

 

 

 

He had slowly walked up by her bedside (after a smaller detour by her window and the armchair, which he had knocked down on the way), and looked at her, with an accusing finger slightly shaking pointing towards her. 

 

 

 

"Don't you ever think that any of this is real." He had said, clearly expecting her to know the conversation he had had in his head. 

 

 

 

"This is all fake. You are fake. This is fake," he had said as he pointed around the room. 

 

 

 

"But Christian I don't understand what you are talking about..." she tried to calm him down by talking quietly.

 

 

"Shut up!" He had almost yelled at her. He had thrown a bottle from his hand hard against the wall next to her bed, and a thousand glass pieces were scattered around the room. The fire in his eyes scared her, but she tried her best to look brave. "No-one cares about you. And YOU are not my true love, and you will never be it."

 

 

 

"They may get what they have demanded, but that is all.. No more..." 

 

 

 

"Christian calm down, I don't want this either..." Her words were pointless; he was not listening at all. Tears was starting to gather in the corners of her eyes.

 

 

 

"You are not worthy of any of it!" He had yelled has he turned away from her bedside. "You are simply an unavoidable circumstance." 

 

 

 

"Yes, exactly..." Christian had stated as if agreeing to what he himself was saying. It was all very incoherent. 

 

 

 

"... goodbye." With that, he had walked out of her room. She had not said anything again, since she did not know what to say. 

 

 

 

As he left her in the dark room, she fell apart. She let the hopelessness completely wash over her as the tears was running down her cheeks. 

 

 

 

She knew he was just drunk and probably did not know what he was saying, or thinking about how it would affect her. 

 

 

 

However, she knew he was speaking the truth that she did not want to hear. 

 

 

 

Her life was doomed. That was how she felt. If she was not killed by loneliness or humiliation then pregnancies or childbirths definitely would be the end of her.

 

 

 

That was all she was there for. Not to begin a long a happy marriage, not to be important or have a significant life. No, she would have one purpose to all of the people around her, and that had nothing to do with her personality or width.

 

 

 

She was simply there to marry the king, so he finally would have a queen. They only needed her for breeding purposes, so a successor could be obtained and appointed.   

 

 

 

She closed her eyes and hoped it all would just disappear.

 

 

 

The pain was too much to bear.

 

 

 

However, how could she had expected anything different from an arrange marriage?

 

 

 

She had just to think about her sisters or mother that all had been through the same thing. They had survived, thus so would she. She knew she could, but right now, the despair was raging inside her.

 

 

 

Her bed felt like stone, but she needed to sleep, so she could escape into her dreams.  

 

 

 

‘I just gotta get over the next day.’ She stated to herself. She told herself to lock her pain away, that she would try her best not to show her despair to anyone.  

 

 

 

‘One day at a time, that is how I’ll do this.’

 

 

 

With that, she slowly started to fade away into the darkness as her mind finally gave up, and let rest take over.

 

 

 

‘Maybe I’ll be alright when I wake up’ was her last hope before falling asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters in one month! Yay!
> 
>  
> 
> Did anyone discover hidden song lyrics in this chapter?(or in some of the previously ones?)


	6. Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huge delay of this chapter! 
> 
> I have been soo busy the last month, also with the planing of future chapters, so I kind of lost track of this chapter and how to get on with it. 
> 
>  
> 
> The inspiration were for a while very low, but I seem to have found my way back again.

 

 

  
  
After sleeping for what felt like forever, she woke up with a confused feeling in her head.

 

 

 

She slightly opened her eyes, still adjusting to the bright light in the room. 

 

 

 

'It most be in the middle of the day' she wondered. 'Why did the staff not wake me up earlier as they usually do?'

 

 

 

With sleep still dulling her body and mind she tried to get familiar with her surroundings, but nothing was as it used to be. 'This cannot be my room,' she concluded slowly. 'This cannot be my bed, it smell too much of man.' She did not realize what she had just fought, before a small snoring sound reached her ear. She suddenly registered that it was definitely not a normal pillow her head was resting on. 

 

 

 

More awoke she started to notice the small movement of her headrest. It was alive.

 

 

 

Completely awaken now and possible a little frightened, she slowly turned her head, and saw what or who it was she was resting her head on.

 

 

 

It was definitely a man, that much was clear just from the partly open shirt reveling a impressive muscular torso, the smaller stubble on the chin and some facial hair on the side chin.  

 

 

 

He was sleeping with his eyes closed, head turned a little away from her. She could detect dark brown hair that was twisted in rows of braids, a little undone because of sleep, which was connected at the neck. 

 

 

 

Braids. Only Viking men were notorious known to have their hair in braids... 

 

 

 

Finally came the hectic events from the last couple of days crushing back in her mind.

 

 

 

 

'Ivar' she thought, as she started to recognize the figure in front of her.

 

 

 

Apparently, she had been sleeping with her head and her hand resting on his chest, for how long she could not know, and only first now did she notice that he had an arm around her as well. 

 

 

 

She felt anxious for being so close to a dangerous Viking that she could hear his heartbeat, but at the same time she could sense a fascination rising inside her. She could not deny that she found him extremely attractive, but she still knew nothing about him. Of course other than he could be an arrogant prick sometimes. It scared her, that even though she had learned he was a Viking, and she had learned whole life that Vikings were the worst treacherous people on earth, she still felt a kind of connection to him. It was like she had been given a chance to start over, to live her life like she wanted to.

 

 

 

In that moment she decided that she was not going to let anyone else dictate who she could or could not be in company with. Or decide when she had to leave or stay in the camp. First, she wanted to get out and see for herself what was going on in the camp.

 

 

 

She thought that Ivar probably would like her to stay close to him in his tent, maybe to protect her or maybe just for more egocentric reasons, but she felt like she needed to get out and experience something on her own. 

 

 

 

Yesterday’s happening with Hvitserk was just one of these new experiences that she felt she needed to have, in order to prove what she was capable of. 

 

 

 

She carefully began lifting her body up from the sleeping frame. His hand on her back felt slowly down behind her, and the movement did not seem to disturb his sleep as his breathing continued in the same slow pace. 

 

 

 

Free from his embrace, she could lift the cover and slowly crawl backwards out of the bed.

 

 

 

With both feet on the ground, she carefully straightened her back feeling a small dizziness clouding her vision after having been in a vertical position for a long time. The feeling disappeared again, but she still felt quite foggy from sleep.

 

 

 

She looked around and located her boots where she had left them by the small bench across from the bed. She felt awfully dirty in her filthy cloth and the absent of any bathing or washing for several days was wearing on her. Her hair felt extremely sticky, and she feared to know how unappealing she looked. It was really a big contrast to how luxurious her life had been just a couple of days ago.

 

 

 

She took the boots up in her arms, together with the black fur that felt like her belonging now. It too was dusty from the ride, but she would rather bring it then leave it behind in the tent.

 

 

 

Before going out of the tent with her belongings, she remembered the small blade she had left under the pillow before falling asleep. 

 

 

 

'Probably not the wisest thing to leave behind' she thought to herself as she silently went back by the bed. 

 

 

 

Slowly she sought for the knife under the pillow after carefully having sat her belongings down on the floor. Not wanting to disturb, she did not move the pillow but instead just cautiously searched in the blind with her hand.

 

 

 

Then she felt the cold touch of the blade against one of her fingers and carefully moved it out from under the pillow, after having secured it in her grip.

 

 

 

With the knife save in hand, she picked up her other belongings and sneaked back out towards the opening. She would not put on her boots inside the tent, since she feared making too much noise.

 

 

 

'I’m starving' she thought as she was at the entrance to the tent and quietly sneaked out through it. Her stomach felt completely drained, which was no wonder since food had been limited on their journey to the camp. Outside she needed a few seconds to adjust to the bright light, but it was not midday as she had first thought. The thin material of the tent had probably tricked her sense of time, since she was not used to that much light in her normal room behind the stone walls.

 

 

 

 “Well, I need to locate some food” she said as she carefully scanned her surroundings. There was two men, which she expected to be guards, standing close at the entrance of the tent she just came out from. Still with her belongings at hand, she looked up at them. They seemed not really to take noticing of her, and where more busy with scanning the setting in front of them, with people working and talking while going about their business.

 

 

 

She quickly put on her boots and the fur, and slowly walked away from the tent, to seek out a place to get some food.  

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

"Not to be disturbing, my lord…" a guard said ripping him out of his line of thoughts clearly deeply immersed in his work, "… but we found a stranger lurking around one of the pantry tents."

 

 

 

The guard had entered his tent without him noticing, and was pointed back over his shoulder like he would understand what the hell he was talking about.

 

 

 

'Idiots' he thought for himself irritated of being disturbed in his work. Why did it feel like he was surrounded by boneheads this day? He did not understand why this was something he needed to be bothered with, and looked firmly annoyed up from his desk. 

 

 

  
  
"Sorry m‘lord, wouldn't bother you with anything like this normally, but the bitch cut two of my men," he placed a knife on the desk in front of him, "and seriously wounded a third with a lantern. Then she shouted she was a guest and demanded to be taken..." 

 

  
  
  
"She?" he interrupted the reporting after having looked at the smaller knife. "How did a girl injure three guards and make a large enough mess to make you want to disturb me?" He said as he pointed to the guard with the smaller weapon. 

 

 

  
  
"Well I don't know My Lord, she completely surprised the men..."

 

 

  
"Enough! I forgot that I don't care about what you have to say." he stopped the guard so he did not need to listen anymore to his impotent apologies. It would only be a waste of his time. He was already tired of what the day had brought on him so far and the day was still young. "I'm quite sure I won’t like your attempt of a pathetic excuses, just bring the girl here and leave me alone." He trusted no one but himself to get things out of the way as swiftly as possible. Before the guard could make a move he added: "And the Gods merci on the next one who tries to unnecessary disturb me again!" The warning reflected perfectly the irritation he felt inside.

 

 

  
"Yes-yes m’Lord, but -" The guard tried to add something, but immediately regretted it as Damon interrupted him: "SHOUT UP! LEAVE!" 

 

 

  
"Off course, my Lord." The guard said with the lowest voice ever, as he disappeared quickly out of the tent's entrance.

 

 

 

Finally alone he looked back at the paper in front of him, not wanting to be disturbed in his work anymore than necessary. 

 

 

  
  
Shortly after, but without him breaking his attention towards the paperwork, two other guards hurried in. He heard that they threw the figure they were dragging between them on the floor in front of his desk and quickly exiting the tent again. Clearly his message had been received and processed to his satisfaction.

 

  
  
He could hear that the person in front of him was getting up from the position on the floor - The landing had sounded rough. 

 

 

  
"You are not Ivar?" he then heard the person say, with what was definitely a female voice, surprise clear from the statement. 

 

 

 

He took his time finishing reading the last part on the paper letting her wait purposefully. As he turned his attention to the person in front of him he laid the paper back on the pile on the desk. 

 

 

  
"Sorry to disappoint, _thief_." he replied as he watched at her with intense blue eyes, contrasting his dark eyelashes and dark hair. Her hands was tied in front of her, and her appearance was quite unattractive with dirt and mud all over her cloth, face and hair. 

 

 

 

"I'm no thief, ' _my Lord_ '." She sarcastically called him, after clearly having heard the title from the guard before. She had a kind of dignified aura about her, despite all the dirt.

 

 

  
  
"Then explain what are you doing here?" he asked her not convinced of her innocence. "Clearly, you have no business 'lurking' around one of our pantries. This is a Viking camp and you don't look anything similar to a Viking.“ He resentfully commented, and bluntly continued; “Well maybe except for the fur around your shoulders, but I assume that is something you have alternatively acquired without the true owners knowledge."

 

  
  
"I have not stolen the fur! You are completely mistaken everything just as your thick-headed men." She was clearly offended by his accusation, even the thought seemed repellant to her. He deducted that she probably came from some higher ranking family, maybe a daughter of a clan or something. Certainly not Viking, they never seemed to care much about taking what wasn't theirs. Boundaries seemed foreign to them.

 

 

  
"I am here on my own will, as a guest." She was looking strictly into his eyes, none of them caving in, both equally stubborn it seemed. "You don't look like a Viking yourself,” She honestly stated as well. “And supposedly, you are to be in command of quite a big lot of them." She had clearly assessed him from the start to be something else than Viking, probably from his appearance with the lack of an impressive beard, or hair in braids, or tattoos of Viking symbols. He knew he still looked like a fighter but had a much more dark and spiteful atmosphere around him than then men in the camp, and the dark cloths only added to that.  

 

 

  
"Clever little girl, I like your fire, but maybe not too clever… Then you are Ivar Ragnarsson's guest I presume?" Anyone knew about Ivar, to Daman it wasn't any prove of anything that she could name one of the famous leaders of the camp. 

 

 

 

"That's right. And I was feeling very hungry after the journey, is that a crime?" she continued her explanation, not liking the doubting attitude he was giving her.

 

 

  
"You need to come up with a better story ' _my lady_ ’, since Ivar isn't even currently in the camp." he cut her off, not believing anything she said. He knew he was out on a secret mission nobody but a few persons knew anything about.

 

 

  
"Well, obviously you are wrong." she stated dead seriously. "We arrived at the camp...” She hesitated. “two days ago." She had concluded that earlier on her quest for food, that they had slept for more than a day. The journey had clearly completely drained them for energy.

 

 

 

  
" _Two days ago_? I don't have time for your pathetic lies." He didn't believe a single word she said. "I have heard nothing of his or his brothers' return. Guard!" he called out for the guard. He couldn't believe that she wasn't any better at lying, since this was just obscured. Of course he would had known if they had returned days ago.

 

 

 

A guard entered the tent fear clear in his face. "Wait, I'm telling the truth why won't you believe me? Ask anyone! ask the guards, it's true!" she begged him, not understanding why he did not believe her.

 

 

 

"Shut your mouth!" he directed his attention to the newly arriving guard, who looked far from happy for being intermixed into it all. "My good man." He said in an all too sweet voice. "Have you heard anything about Ivar and his brothers?" he asked bored. 

 

 

 

"My-my lord? I'm confused." the scared guard answered.

 

 

 

"See?" quickly he confidently turned his attention back to her. Too quickly apparently, as the guard had more add: "If-if you are referring to the incident with the woman that kicked Hvitserk's ass as they had just arrived - then yes - everybody has heard about that. I wish I had seen it." the guard sounded almost disappointed. 

 

 

 

"WHAT?" he could not believe what the guard was telling them.

 

 

 

"Surely you are joking? I have received no reports about any of this." He tried to reason since this information had not arrived at his desk.

 

 

  
"No My Lord. I think it was two days ago, but I can't be sure. Only heard about it from my mate yesterday, and..." Damon could not contain his rage as he looked back to the girl, who now had a confident smile on. He turned back to the guard again and shouted: "Shut up, you fool. Leave!" It was almost too perfect of a morning to believe it.

 

 

 

The guard understood the dangerous situation as he was about to turn around and leave the tent.

 

 

 

Before the guard was very far, Damon added: "Well, if this is true. Stop for a second!" He commanded. The frozen guard was clearly terrified as he awaited his orders. "Tell the others that we are leaving. Ready the ships and let us get the hell out of this Godless place." The guard answered with a short "Yes M’lord." and disappeared quicker than water running through a sieve out of the tent.

 

 

 

His patience was becoming extremely thin after working with a group of what apparently was the most imbecilic Vikings in the world. "I'm surrounded by idiots!" he exclaimed to no one in particular. At least they understood the most basic commands. They had shown to be extreme efficient with leaving a camp as swift as possible and he hoped this would also be the case this time. Time were against them, if the camp were not to be discovered. He felt like it was just pure luck that their location hadn't already been exposed.

 

 

 

"Yeah, well. They don't all seem like the brightest men on earth." She rudely intruded his agony. He had shortly forgotten about the irritating girl, and came back from his line of thoughts. He looked directly at her this time with less skepticism. The look he gave her made her stop, and forget about what she was trying to say.

 

 

 

It was only now that he could look through her dirty cloths and messy hair and see that it was actually a rather beautiful young woman who was standing in front of him. She had a long thick brown hair, which was partly collected behind her head, and a pair of big brown eyes matching the hair.

 

 

 

Completely done with speculations he straight up asked her: "Say I believe your story. What is your name, and please in the shortest way possible, explain to me why you are in my camp?" he said as he exhaled feeling done with fighting with her.

 

 

 

She looked back at him, shortly holding back her breath. For a brief moment she actually felt like telling him the whole truth.

 

 

 

"Untie me first." She said as she lifted her tied hands up towards him.

 

 

 

He laughed shortly for himself. Of course she wasn't going to make anything easy for him. Nothing that day had so far been uncomplicated so why would she be any different? He were only supposed to be the one in charge of this godforsaken camp, the one with the power to determine her destiny, but of course that did not seem to affect her as much as he would have wanted. He thanked his 'obedient' workers for putting him into this mess in the first place. 

 

 

 

Looking in front of him on his desk, he took the knife that the guard had placed there. He investigated it shortly in his hands. It was a small blade with a wooden handle with some smaller engravings on. There was different patterns on it, but in the middle on one side was a large wolf shape.

 

 

 

The wolf was often the mark of Ubbe Ragnarsson. Well, that was evidence for her actually having been around one of the brothers, and that they probably were back at the camp - which was good news, since he really was anxious to get the hell out of there.  

 

 

 

"Explain to me how you got this knife?" He demanded to hear her story before drawing to many conclusions. 

 

 

 

She looked at the knife, then up at him. Clearly she understood that he knew it was not originally her property. ''I took it from the Ragnarsson called Ubbe during our journey here." She told him honestly, "We were riding together on his horse, when I saw it in his belt." She made some gestures with her still tied hands as she explained pointing towards her own belt. 

 

 

 

"I did not know them, I did not know if I could trust them. So I carefully took it." She truthfully told him. "After all, they are Vikings..." She regrettably stopped herself and looked down at him as he still sat in his chair.

 

 

 

Her last comment made no difference to him, he knew all too well the ever changing moods of the worst of Vikings. Well, his experience was that warriors generally could all have a sudden change of their mood being under a lot of stress and hard conditions. Vikings just seemed to be easier driven to that point. He told her to go on with her version of events.

 

 

 

"Well, he did not miss it, and by the way Ivar saw that I took it and did nothing about it." She tried to justify her actions.

 

 

 

"That is still defined as stealing." He commented strictly, "even if you did it right in front of his eyes. Also, it’s very bolt of you to steal a weapon from a Viking - any Viking but in particular any of those brothers. They normally take that kind of crimes quite seriously." He lifted an eyebrow as he was judging whether it was extremely stupid or brave of her to risk it. "They have killed for far lesser crimes." he added with a evil smile on his face.

 

 

 

She tried to ignore his last comment and went on. "When we had finally arrived here at the camp two days ago just before sunset, Hvitserk mistook me for being someone he could treat as he desired." She had a very displeased expression that then turned very serious. "I used the knife to fend him off. It turned out to be useful after all. He apparently hadn't thought that I would put up any real fight. "

 

 

 

He looked unimpressed at her. He knew that Hvitserk was used to getting what he wanted, that the girl would put up a real fight was probably a surprise to him.

 

 

 

"Don't worry, it was mostly his pride that got hurt.” She said as a small satisfied smile appeared on her lips. 

 

 

  
With the knife in his hand he slowly stood up from his chair and walked around his desk. He vent closer and stopped right in front of her looking down at her. Standing up he was maybe half a foot taller than her.

 

 

  
Then disbelief showed up in his face as he asked her: "You fought of Hvitserk - a Viking prince who has trained to fight wars since he was just a child - with only this small thing here?" He did not see how that could be true.

 

 

  
"Well, his first mistake was that he didn't carry any weapons at that moment.” She tried to reason but understood why he would doubt her. “And I guess - he was too tired to think it all through in his thick head." she had no other explanation. "He looked quite surprised, anyway." 

 

 

  
"Show me." He still looked at her with doubt clear in his eyes.

 

 

  
"Show you what?" She asked him, unclear of what he wanted her to do.

 

 

  
"How you did it. How you defended yourself from Hvitserk." He clarified.

 

  
  
As he said it, he moved the knife in his hand close to her face. It was just in front of her chin when he then turned it down and used it to untie the ropes around her hands. 

 

 

  
The rope was quickly cut free, and she looked revealed to get the tight restrains of. 

 

 

  
"But, I don't understand? Do you suddenly trust me now?" She looked very unimpressed at him. "Or are you just as arrogant as Ivar?" Without her explaining further, he could imagine what indifferent comments Ivar could have had about a little girl with a small knife. He would probably not care at all about her stealing it, only waiting to see his brothers make a fool of themselves.

 

 

  
He laughed of her comment. "I don't think it is possible to be more overconfident than that stubborn Viking." 

 

 

  
He continued: "Maybe I just want to see for myself just how big a thread you really are." He had a smock smile on.

 

 

  
"I did not say that I'm a thread... " She looked skeptically up at him. "But people have been underestimating me for my whole life. And it sounds like you are no different." 

 

 

  
He laughed half-heartedly. She had no idea about how much he could relate to that feeling from his old life. But that was in the past now.

 

 

 

He took one step and decreased the space between them to only a small hand's length. 

 

 

 

Then he gave her the knife in her now untied hand. She looked down as his fingers shortly touched her balm in the movement. He could see that she was weirdly affected by a kind of chill. She had clearly noticed that his skin felt cold as ice.  

 

 

 

She looked confused up at him, but he understood what she meant. Everyone that came too close would eventually figure out that something was different. 

 

 

 

 That he was different. 

 

 

 

Standing this close, even with all the dirt and traces of old sweat, he could easily sense the sweet smell of her warm blood running through her fine veins. 

 

 

 

He started to feel the desire coming from deep inside himself. How long had it been since last time? A week? Maybe more? He wasn't sure. He had been so busy with running everything, that he had suppressed his own desire. 

 

 

 

Without saying anything he reached his hand up and moved a lock of long hair back over her shoulder. The action bared her tempting neck on her left side, exposing the pulsing main vein completely.

 

 

 

He could feel that his eyes had changed color to a more red shade as the hunger inside grew, but in the dime light in the tent it was probably not that visible.

 

 

 

"Stand still." He then said lowly to compel her. Mesmerized she just stood in front of him, the effect he usually got from his victims. 

 

 

 

The urge was too strong, he could not resist. As he slowly started to lean down towards her, she held up the knife in a weak attempt to stop what was going on. But all he needed to do was carefully push her hand holding the knife down, as he continued to move closer to her. He heard the knife fell to the floor. "Stand very still, you wont remember a thing." He then said again, now looking into her eyes.

 

 

 

Still with her hand in his grasp, he closed the distance to her neck, and was only some few inches away. 

 

 

 

He slowly exhaled his breath that he apparently had been holding back. He could see how it made her shiver when it touched her skin. 

 

 

 

He bared his now visible fangs completely forgetting about anything other than primal instincts. In a swift movement he held around her as he first slowly licked her skin with his tongue before he carefully broke it open with his fangs.

 

 

 

The sweet taste of the young woman was intoxicating to him - There was still a small hint of innocent in it. He greedily sucked in the warm blood running out through the two bites.

 

 

 

He could feel how she went lax in his arms. Her head felt back, but that only exposed her delicious neck even further. He drank and drank in the delicious liquid and could not remember the last time he had tasted anything so sweet. He was completely transfixed, determine to not waste anything, taking in every last drop of blood. 

 

 

 

"DAMON STOP THIS IMMEDIATELY!" He distantly heard that someone was yelling something, but he just could not stop the amazing ingest of fresh blood. He was too far gone to have any self-control - or to understand what would happen if he did not stop.

 

 

 

"I SAID STOP!" Suddenly he felt two agonizing sets of pain from his left shoulder. Shocked from the extensive pain he let go of his prey who was then quickly removed from his site as he collapsed while shouting something incoherent. 

 

 

 

His breathing was deep and exhausted as he was on his knees slowly starting to get out of the trance he had been in.

 

 

 

He moved his right hand up towards the hurting part of his body as he looked to discover two knives resting deep in his left shoulder.

 

 

 

"Fucking hell!" He shouted as the reality of it all registered more clearly in his mind. He felt furious for being ripped this brutal out of the most wonderful feeding he had had in years. 

 

 

 

He took his eyes off the pieces to see who had been the one to stop him. Looking up, he found Ivar Boneless on his knees bent in over the girl's still lax body. 

 

 

 

The Viking was checking with her, tending the wounds. Why did she mean this much to him? It made him angrier to know that his close friend had treated him like this. Of course he should have known it to be Ivar, he was know for his skilled talents with knives.

 

 

 

He could still feel her weak heartbeat and felt only slightly responsible for her condition. After all, she had been the rude intruder.

 

 

 

"What the fuck Ivar?" He shouted towards the Viking, as he took a firm hold on the handle of one of the knifes, which was sitting very deep in his shoulder. 'This is gonna hurt' he shortly thought.

 

 

 

With the strongest force he could manage in the position on his knees, he quickly pulled out the blade with a loud howl. The pain was almost unbearable. 

 

 

 

The Viking in front of him gave him a short glare, before refocusing back on the girl. 

 

 

 

Catching his breath, leaning back on his knees he tried to tell his brain that the delicious treat had been worth the pain. He cried inside has he reached for the second and last knife. ‘The Gods are really punishing me today’ he thought.

 

 

 

'Come on' he told himself. This time he pulled the knife out in one quick draw biting down the pain not saying anything. He was not giving Ivar the pleasure of hearing his agony again. He threw the bloody blade far away. 

 

 

 

The pain was damn intense, but finally he could start to heal with the pieces out of his body. That was also painful, but at least in a good way.

 

 

 

"If you are done now, we need to leave this place immediately." Ivar was standing in front of him, carrying the unconscious girl in his arms. “Every second we waste we risk someone discovering the camp.”

 

 

 

"You bastard! You could have stopped me in ways less brutal than this.” he furiously stated. “I would not have wasted so much of your precious time had you done it otherwise.”

 

 

 

"True", Ivar replied his friend. "But it wouldn’t had felt quite as satisfying as this method." The pestilence had a smock smile on, as he was starting to turn around leaving. 

 

.

 

"We are partners aren't we?" he called out to him from the floor, as Ivar had his back turned toward him. "We share all the profit from our work between us, right?" 

 

 

 

Ivar froze as his impression turned cold as stone, and he looked back at him. 

 

 

 

"Don't test my patient 'partner'. Else you might find yourself short of any profit suddenly." Ivar was not messing around at the moment, clearly bared from any sense of humor. “You keep away from her!” He clearly understood that this was not something up for debate.

 

 

 

"Easy now, friend!" Damon stood up from the floor, the knife wounds almost completely healed up. Only his clothes that were drenched in blood revealed that he had been injured, but some of the blood was not his own. "Remember we are here for the same reason." He smiled at him holding out his hands to reflect his surrender and recall their united goal.

 

 

 

"It's you who is in need some remembering, my _dear_ friend." Ivar smiled stiffly back, after looking down on the girl in his arms. "What the hell was going on in here? And why aren't the ships ready yet." He looked back at him with a confused and irritated expression.

 

 

 

"That is a longer story for now – you will get it later - let's just get out of here." He did not feel the need for giving a résumé of his ‘wonderful’ day. 

 

 

 

Ivar turned back around to walk out of the tent.

 

 

 

'For fuck sake' he thought to himself. That girl was only going to give problems.

 

 

 

"Ivar,” he called out, and stopped the Viking just before he was out of the entrance. “Is it true what they say she did to Hvitserk?"

 

 

 

Ivar finally smiled at him. "The gods could not have planned a better embarrassment on my brother - It was epic." He laughed as he disappeared out behind the curtain.

 

 

 

Well, that meant that Hvitserk probably also have a score to set with the girl. And she stole the knife from Ubbe. He wondered if she had done everything purposefully to get in the most fragile situation possible – between the most competitive Viking brothers. He did not know what to think, but there was just something alluring about her. And her taste was magnificent - He knew he would not be able to resist and keep away from her forever, he just hoped to find a way in time that did not evolve betraying his best friend.

 

 

 

One thing was sure: She was going to course trouble.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to update quicker than last, but as this story evolves, the chapters seem to increase and therefore it just takes longer. 
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry, not sorry. ;)


	7. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a month later than expected the next chapter is now ready. But fear not! The next one is already on the way as well, hopefully soon ready to be posted! :)

  

 

 

It was a cold and storming night. 

 

 

 

The first sign of the forthcoming winter was starting to show by the temperature dropping slowly and the leaves on the threes getting a more yellow-red-like color.

 

 

 

The tearing weather was the first real storm of the fall. It had delayed their travel by days as their strong ships had been in a constant struggle with the wind that tried to force them in the opposite direction. 

 

 

 

The determined Viking seafarers were used to the rough and traitorous ocean - no man doubted that they would win the battle eventually, it just meant that the Gods were testing them, to see if they really were worthy of their favor and protection.

 

 

 

Ivar knew this, and never doubted any of his men on his boats. They had been taking the lead, being the first to leave the shore and the soon-to-be abandoned camp.

 

 

 

He had been on the largest of the ships, and he had carefully brought the unconscious girl with him on the boat, not trusting any of his brothers with her tending. Not that he cared for her, of course. It was just to spite his brothers, to deny them the pleasure of her company whenever she would wake up. 

 

 

 

That was again only if she woke up again. 

 

 

 

He was not at all that certain of it at first. She looked so small and fragile. How could anyone like that survive his friend’s tenacious bloodthirst? He had been completely in trance as he had tried to suck every single drop out of her. It was a miracle that he had been able to stop him, she had possible only been seconds away from being drained completely to dust.

 

 

 

He had never seen his close friend in this intense a state while feeding. He was always so composed and in control, able to stop if he wished so. 

 

 

 

Now, look what he had done to her! Or was it really her who had done something to him? It was all a puzzle to Ivar. 

 

 

 

Later into the journey on the sea, had he observed moments when she had been conscious for a shorter while. She had looked around or said some incoherent words, but at least it was signs of that she was getting better. 

 

 

 

He had even been able to get her to drink fluids, after he had ordered some of the women on his ship to tent to her. He would not dissemble to care too much for her, but on the other hand, he also knew to trust all the members of his crew. 

  

 

 

They were all completely loyal to him and only him - that was the only kind of people he would ever trust to work closely with. Not that he had trust issues; he had just learned so from his mother. She was the only person he had ever adored and loved, and he was sure he would never meet a greater woman in his life.

 

 

 

 Finally they had arrived at the next meeting point. 

 

 

 

It was close to an old abandoned forest not that far from the ocean, with a bay close by where the ships could dock while being hidden.

  

 

 

She had been awake at the time, and able to walk slowly on land by herself with help for balance. The women still helped her, also with being sorted in one of the newly established tents. He watched carefully from afar, as he was busy with ordering people around. 

  

 

 

She looked to be resting in her tent, and he casually asked one of the older women who was walking away from her tent about the state of her health. 

  

 

 

"I think she is recovering fine. She is strong and the Gods are looking out for her. By their grace she will soon be fit for fight, if you know what I mean sir?" the woman teased in her very bold answer, but Ivar liked her honesty. 

 

 

  

"The wounds on her neck are infected a little," Now she had a more serious tone as she continued the reporting. "But that will hopefully soon be gone, the fever as well." 

 

 

 

 He had dismissed her, after giving an order to continue the caretaking and that she was to be treated as a guest. 

 

 

  

He only briefly blamed Damon for putting her in the dangerous situation, but also knew about what kind of demons he was fighting every day. He knew the curse he was under, had seen him at his worst before, and that he sometimes just could not control it. 

 

  

 

They had pushed him too far, he knew that, but he also knew that they needed to push him even further if they were ever to succeed in their plan. 

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

Since arriving back on land, she was starting to feel much better. 

 

 

 

 

Sailing across a treacherous ocean while being unconscious most of the time and trying to recover from a massive blood loss was a terribly combination. She would not wish it on her worst enemy.

 

 

  

She had felt close to death multiple times, mostly while emptying every single drop of fluid from her stomach out into the sea. She thought it almost impossible for her to survive such harsh conditions.  

 

 

  

Faith had it otherwise or maybe by the Viking Gods' grace? She could not be certain; the people around her seem to be convinced of the last option. 

 

 

 

Anyway, she was still alive. Well, barely alive when her feet had touched the hard ground that finally did not rock with the waves, but after a couple of days things were much more brighten. She could even walk around a little without help.

 

 

 

She had not seen much to her savior. Ivar was probably busy with setting up the camp. She wished she could speak to him soon, as she could not remember what had happened to her. She had small bits and pieces of events, and knew that Ivar had somehow saved her from the dark haired commander called Damon, but everything was very blurry and she had no memories at all about how she got hurt. 

 

 

  

Ivar must have brought her with him on his ship, since that was where she gained her consciousness the first time after the attack. Well, was she attacked? She could not recall any fighting or resisting, so she was not completely sure about anything. 

  

 

 

Suddenly, her memory was just blank and she had that weird cut on her neck. She assumed it was a cut from a sword or knife, from all the blood that was now dried into her clothes and from how ill she had turned afterwards. She at least expected it all to be due to a major blood loss. 

 

 

  

She did not know how bad it really was, since there was no mirrors around her and the wound was covered up trying to stop the bleeding. However, she could guess the seriousness of it and felt grateful for all the help the strangers was showing her.

 

 

 

 

The older women tending her did not help to clarify anything concrete. They were very quiet not seeking to converse with her apparently in order for her to rest as much as possible. One had tried to explain that it was a miracle that she had survived and that she should not tempt the Gods or question their favor, or in any way insult them into regretting their mercy. At least that was her interpretation, from their short exchange of words.

 

 

  

So here she was. A couple of days later back on land, being washed silently by three older women. Finally, they had decided that she had gained enough strength to endure it. For her it had been very much needed for a couple of days, but she understood their concern.

 

  

 

Getting out of the last dirty pieces of clothing was a blessing, and getting her hair and face thoroughly washed by more than a wet cloth was refreshing. 

 

 

 

They had filled a large tub, which possible wasn't a real bathtub, but maybe a water basin for the animals. She did not care, as she was finally being washed.

 

 

 

They had cleaned the container and filled it with steaming hot water. While slowly lowered her body down into the cleansing bath, she had welcomed the familiar warmth with a big contempt smile on her face. She did not mind the burning feeling; she only welcomed it after what she had been through. 

 

 

  

The three older women were vividly washing her hair and body, scrubbing all the dirt away with soap. She just sad there silently, body half covered by the water, and did what they asked or indicated her to do. 

 

  

 

Even her more private parts were carefully cleaned. They certainly were very thorough, but she just relaxed taking in all the warmth from the water. 

 

   

 

Lastly, they had carefully removed the compress around her neck, attending the wound. They looked to be satisfied with how it was healing, and touched it only very gently in order to wash it.

 

 

  

One of the women then indicated for her to stand up, and get out of the tub after what had probably been her longest bath ever. 

 

 

  

Still with soap all over, another woman splashed a bucket of not-so-hot-anymore water over her, which made her shiver and yelp in a small surprised tone. She was sure she heard the older women lowly laugh at her.

 

 

  

Finally finished with the water, they gathered around her with sheets in their hands and dried her off. She just stood there, arms out to her sides, completely naked, letting them handle her as they thought right. 

 

   

 

With a tiny cloth covering around her body, one of the women standing behind her where drying of her hair like crazy.

 

 

 

Suddenly, there sounded a large howl by a horn. 

 

   

 

She looked surprised towards the entrance of the tent, and saw a shadow of a body disappearing out behind one of the tent curtain doors.

 

   

 

Even though it had been only for a spilt of a second, she recognized the slightly perturbed movement easily. 

 

 

  

She looked around in the room. The other women had not seen anything as they continued with their work, and did not look concerned about the howling. 

  

  

 

She tried to point in the direction of the sound, and looked between the women.

  

  

 

"More ship." One shortly stated in an attempt to explain to her what the sound had meant. That had been the other reason for the silence in the tent. The women did not really speak anything but their own Nordic language, but at least they had some basic understanding of her native tongue, and they could communicate on basics.

  

  

 

"What ships?" She shortly asked the woman who had understood the question. 

 

    

 

The woman just turned around and soon left the tent, while the two others stopped with the drying and started to dress her in some new clean linen clothing. Surprised by how quickly the woman had left, she wondered if she only did it to help her find out who had arrived or if she needed to get something. Maybe she had not understood her question. 

 

  

She did not really notice what they did around her, as she was more interested in when the third woman would return. 

 

 

 

The two remaining women started to wrap a new smaller bandage around her neck. It hurt a bit, but the compression against the wound had also a comforting feeling. 

  

 

  

Not that long after, the third woman came back carrying some bundle in her hands. She concluded that she had not understood her question then, a little disappointing look appeared on her face.

  

  

 

As if the older woman recognizing her feeling to know what was going on, she quickly sat the bundle down on a table and went by her. 

  

 

  

"Ubbe Ragnarsson ships... Lord Ubbe here." The woman reported. Her mood instantly changed into a revealed one. The older woman had understood her, and not only that, it was also very good news!

 

 

  

Ubbe - The oldest of the Ragnarssons that she knew had arrived at their camp. With relief flooding through her body, she felt her heart pacing down to a more relaxed rate. Apparently, she had been holding her breath back, because she could finally release a deep exhale.

 

 

 

She had feared that the sound of the horn had meant that trouble was approaching. Knowing that somebody that she knew, somewhat, had arrived calmed her more then she had expected or even thought about.

 

 

 

Ubbe was the one of the brothers that had been kindest to her during their traveling, even brought her the clothing when her old had been completely ruined after being out in the rain. Not to mention that he had a pair of very kind blue eyes.

 

  

 

She wanted to find Ubbe to talk to him. She felt like she owed him an apology. Stealing the knife that she now had no idea about where it went made her feel more like the thief that Damon had accused her of being.

  

  

 

As the older women finished dressing her and then sat her in a chair to work on her filtered hair, she was lost to her thoughts not really paying attention to what was going on.

 

 

 

Only by complete coincidence did she remember that she wanted to keep the smaller fabric she had had around her hair. She had noticed it just before one of the women were about to threw it away, and asked her to please give it back to her. It was the last thing she had from home. Well, the place she had last lived in, she was not so sure if she really would call it her home.

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

As soon as the older women had stated that they had finished with her, she had thanked them for all their work and been allowed to leave the tent for a walk.

 

 

 

She really needed to get out of the crowded smaller tent to get some fresh air, but felt a little dizzy as she walked. She still did not have all her strength back yet, but wanted to prove that she was getting better.

 

 

 

While walking slowly she observed the life in the smaller camp. They seem to be setting everything up still, readying tents or working on handcrafts. 

 

 

 

Being out around other people, she felt very self-aware about having the bandage around her neck and tried to cover it as much as she could with her hair. She hoped that she soon could get rid of it, but at least the older women had looked satisfied with the healing.

 

 

 

The state of the camp was very dynamic: Everyone seemed to be helping each other, working very intense and efficiently together. 

 

 

 

A blacksmith was hammering on what looked to be a pair of axes, and the heat radiating from the smithy made her walk a little closer. The fall was still getting colder by the day, but at least that day the weather was mostly calm. 

 

 

 

She passed by a table by the smithy and something caught her attention. On it lay a bundle of what looked to be different weapons. She had never seen that many diverse tools that probably all served the same frightening purpose.

 

 

 

On the other hand; she also never had found herself in the middle of a camp that felt on the verge of being at war with someone. It was a lot of firsts she was experiencing in a very short time.

 

 

 

Or maybe it wasn't a war they prepared for. Maybe they were running from something? She could not really tell and nobody had involved her in any plans. 

 

 

 

She thought it wise to expect the worst situation anyway, and then go on from there. A weapon seemed smart either way.

 

 

 

The items on the table ranged from smaller knifes to larger swords and axes. They were probably pieces that needed to be fixed or improved by the blacksmith. She picked up a knife that was very curved and speculated on what purpose such a weird bent blade could serve.

 

 

 

"You use that during close combat." A voice suddenly came from behind her and made her jump slightly by surprise. She recognize Ubbe's low voice and could sense how he was standing right behind her.

 

 

 

She stood completely still, almost forgetting to breath and did not say anything as his present behind her made her feel somewhat intimidated and a little uncomfortable. Slowly, his hand came up from behind her and slowly gripped around her hand that held the curved knife she had been studying. 

 

 

 

She could feel his breath close to her right ear as he whispered; "You sneak up behind your target." He slowly moved her hand up to her neck letting the blade trace just around her neck, but without touching anything.

 

 

 

She held back her breath as she felt his front press to her back.

 

 

 

"Then you penetrate the skin in a swift movement across the whole neck” Ubbe carefully instructed while mimicking the movement with the knife, still only ghosting it across her skin. “And remember to cover the mouth of your target so no one will be warned." He added as he held his other hand gently up in front of her mouth only slightly touching her skin on her lips. It all felt very intense and she turned quietly her head to look back at him.

  

 

 

He froze as the movement made her hair fall back exposing the newly changed bandage the older women had tied around her wound on her neck.

 

 

 

"So it is true then." He said in a quiet voice as he removed his hand in front of her mouth, letting it trace over the bandage cloth. Then he lowered the knife, and let go of her hand. She could feel how he took a step back, as she could no more feel his front pressing to her back. 

 

 

 

Released she turned slowly around, only losing the balance slightly from the movement. She gave him an awaiting look as she expected him to explain what he had meant. She wondered what exactly he had heard and whom he had heard it from. Maybe Ivar?

 

 

 

He looked as if he was about to finally say something, but then stopped as he shortly scanned her appearance.

 

 

 

His big blue eyes appeared astonished as he studied her in silence.

 

 

 

It made her very self-aware. She had not cared about how she looked or what the older women had done to her when she had left the tent a moment ago, as she had still been very hazed from the illness. 

 

 

 

Now a large intimidating Viking man stood just in front of her and was glancing at her appearance as if he was evaluating her. However, she did feel like he was in a state of awe instead of just gauging at her.

 

 

 

He finally broke the silence after what had probably only been a few seconds but felt longer. "You look like a Viking princess." His response completely surprised her as he smiled at her. It made her blush and she felt very shy and childish for letting his unexpected complement affect her this much.

 

 

 

“You sound so surprised.” She commented shortly. “Are you trying to assess if I’m worthy of your mighty present, Viking?” She said in a half sarcastic tone.

 

 

 

"Are you sure you aren't sent here to Midgaard by the Gods to test us?" He responded as he looked closely into her eyes. "To test me?" She felt a trace of seriousness in his question as if he was actually asking himself.

 

 

 

She just looked shyly down to investigate what she was actually wearing.

 

 

 

It was a beautiful cornflower blue dress. It was not the most extravagant dress she had ever worn, but she really liked the simplicity of it. How it made her feel like she was part of this place, part of the people. She was done with not fitting in, always being dressed out for display.

 

 

 

She held the rough fabric out with her hands, as she studied and loved the little details like the neckline that was held together by a thin leather strap, and the braided leather belt around her waist. The long sleeves fitted her perfectly, and the dress went almost down to her ankles. 

 

 

 

Releasing the dress again, she lifted a hand up to trace through her hair. She could feel that it was braided lightly on the side and looser in the back. 

 

 

 

Ubbe was still observing her, now in silence, letting her investigate her own appearance.

 

 

 

She moved her hand down from the hair tracing over the bandage by her neck. 

 

 

 

"Are you in pain?" He asked her lowly. She fell out of the small trance she had been partly in and looked surprised up at him. "No, I'm feeling much better..." She answered mindfully. "Thank you for asking..."

 

 

 

"But I really don't understand what happened." She continued cautiously. She really wanted to remember how she was wounded, but her memory was completely blank. 

 

 

 

She looked contemplating up at him. She did not know why nobody had explained to her what had happened, and figured there was something about the circumstances that people wanted to keep from her, at least as long as she was still quite affected by it. 

 

 

 

"I guess nobody knew how to explain it." Ubbe answered vaguely. "And I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask..." he hesitated, but could see hers disappointment and added: "All I will say is: Everyone gets tested by the Gods. Some more than others. We can’t avoid the destiny they have in mind for us."

 

 

 

He stepped closer to her. "I know it's not the answer you are looking for, but I think it is only fair that you ask him yourself." 

 

 

 

‘Dammit’ she thought, but of course Ubbe was right. She felt very conflicted by it all. She could not wait to meet this Damon person again to talk to him and get some answers, but at the same time, the thought scared her. What had happened? Could it happen again? This was just a fraction of all the different feels and thoughts she felt and had at once.

 

 

 

"Demon is a good friend of mine.” Ubbe continued after a little while, as he was still standing in front of her. “I know what happened was probably not something that he planned, and I'm sure he regrets it." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He will not let it happen again I'm sure of it, so don't worry." It was as if he had read her mind, but she guessed it was not that difficult to deduct. His words comforted her a little. 

 

 

 

"Let me follow you back to your tent." He removed his hand from her shoulder and held it out for her. "You look like you could use some rest." 

 

 

 

He was absolutely right. She felt completely drained from the small walk and their conversation, and felt very ready for a good long rest.

 

 

 

She carefully placed the little rounded knife back down on the table they had been standing by, as Ubbe was walking over by the blacksmith to say something in his Nordic language. She guessed there had been some originally reason why he had come by the blacksmith. Ubbe finished talking to the guy by clapping twice on the blacksmith's shoulder, and then turned back towards her. 

 

 

 

"I want to apologizes for stealing your knife." She said as they had started to slowly walk back towards her tent.

 

 

 

"Don't worry about it, it seemed that you needed it more than I." Ubbe said shortly. "Just don't make it into a habit." 

 

 

 

Ubbe had more to say: "I feel that i most warn you." He stopped and was standing very close to her. She had mostly been focusing on just still standing on her feet as she was starting to be very exhausted. She laid a supporting hand on his arm and looked up at him.

 

 

 

"Vikings can be a very proud and single-minded people." She just listened to his gentle voice.

 

 

 

"And sometimes, well often." He laughed slightly for himself. "Often, we do something stupid before thinking too much about it." She was starting to have an idea about what or whom he was referring to.

 

 

 

"Well, of course unless you are Ivar." Ubbe added more irritated. "That shitty irritating bastard of my brother can sometimes be the most calculated and manipulating man on earth." 

 

 

 

"I don't think he does a single thing without there being some hidden agenda or intended meaning behind it." His voice had a hit of bitterness in it. She understood that something had happened between the brothers, but also wanted to get to know them on her own, and tried to be skeptical of what Ubbe was telling her.

 

 

 

“Our father and circumstances shaped him that way… But sometimes he loses his temper…” Ubbe did not seem to want to finish the sentence.

 

 

 

He looked more closely at her. "Now I warned you, so don't let him get to manipulate you too!" He looked very sincere in his warning. She just nodded in silence. Of course, she had already sensed this about Ivar, but Ubbe made it sound very serious. But then again, brothers probably had deeply embedded scores to set with each other. 

 

 

 

"But that was actually not what I was going with this." He shortly laughed, and she contiuned to listen. She liked Ubbe’s laugh and bright blue eyes. There was a very sincere wipe around him and she felt like she could relax more in his company. Very different to for example the quite tense atmosphere between her and Ivar.

 

 

 

"I was thinking about my other idiotic brother that you have met so far." She had guessed that much, and wondered how many Ragnar sons she did not know about.

 

 

 

"Apparently, both of my younger brothers likes to mostly behave as complete morons. However, Hvitserk is not a real thread to you." Ubbe continued. 

 

 

 

"He may sometimes behave as a jerk, and he do have some sadistic tendencies.” Ubbe rested a hand on her arm “Hvitserk is a very loyal and dedicated worrier. He sometimes just loses it and do foolish things." As Ubbe talked about Hvitserk she could see that he really cared deeply for this brother.

 

 

 

He walked closer to her and stared intensely into her eyes. "I won't apologize on his behalf for what he tried to do to you. I just wanted to try and explain things to you." He was smiling at her again. “I guess I can be bit of a big brother for those crazy dudes. I have really no idea of how we have survived this far…” He felt silence again.  

 

 

 

"Anyway", he broke out from whatever hole he shortly had mentally decayed into, and took a step back as he looked in some direction. "The last ships should be here in a couple of days, including Hvitserk and Damon's."

 

 

 

“By the Gods’ mercy they won’t meet the storm we came across, because then it’ll probably take a bit longer, dependent on how much off cause they gets pushed.” He added. She did not doubt that he like most Vikings was an experienced seafarer.

 

 

 

"I'm sure they will have something to explain when they get here." Ubbe said as he continued to walk again. She followed thinking about what Ubbe had told her. She was not about to forgive Hvitserk before talking to him. She did not know Hvitserk as Ubbe did, but something inside her wanted to know more about him. About all the brothers and their mysterious friend, Damon. She was still very confused about the whole setup, like who was in control? What were they doing in her country before? Why did they run away so fast? Where on earth were they now? Nevertheless, she figured that these were all questions for another time when she was not as exhausted. For now, she just nodded.

 

 

 

"We still know nothing about you." Ubbe had turned his attention back on her, piercing her again with a pair of intense blue eyes. 

 

 

 

She felt a knot forming in her stomach, as she did not know what to say. "I... I..." Was all she could stutter. She looked down to her feet. She still had her own boots from home on. Fortunately, the older women had granted her to keep them. She did not know how to answer Ubbe’s question. She only knew that she needed to keep her true identity hidden for the dangerous Vikings. She did not know exactly what would happen if they found out that she was the Queen married to King Christian of the house of Grey, but she felt it definitely would not be in her favor.  

 

 

 

She felt Ubbe’s hand come up and caress her left cheek. It calmed her heartrate a little down, but he would not trick her into thinking she could trust him any more than his crazy Viking brothers. 

 

 

 

"My identity is all I have left." She looked up meeting his stare. "It's my last advantage against any of you." She tried to put up a believable story, which would not reveal anything. "If I tell you now, and you figure that I'm not important, what will then happen to me?" 

 

 

 

"Can you guarantee that nothing bad will happen to me? Or that I could be granted my freedom and be allowed to leave?" She feared the true answer to her questions, and saw the doubting twist in Ubbe’s face. She walked closer to him, and held a hand against his bearded cheek. "And even if it was what _you_ wanted, could you really truly promise to protect me against the other _leaders_ of this establishment? From your forgiving brothers?"

 

 

 

Ubbe's silent hesitation was the only confirmation she needed. 

 

 

 

"Yeah, that was what I thought." She said as she stepped back from the tall Viking. 

 

 

 

"I know that you and your brothers were on some mission when you found me, and that you'll need there to be some reason behind the failure. For now, you'll keep me alive, I guess until you figure out a new plan." She took a step more back. "And then I don't know what will happen." She looked around at the working people going about their business.

 

 

 

"I won't let.." Ubbe tried but she stopped him before he had a change to answer any of her assumptions. "Don't!" She said lowly. "… Don't promise my anything that you'll just end up breaking when the others decide against you. Don't put yourself in a difficult position, Ubbe."  

 

 

 

"You don't know me," she had a hint of sadness in her voice. "Don't put your word and honor out on a line for a complete stranger." She had a small smile on. 'Be clever than that, sweet Ubbe,' she thought but did not say out loud. 

 

 

 

"You can't decide what I can or cannot do, woman!" Disbelief were clear in his expression, but she could also detect that her words had convinced him somehow. Of course he would be just as proud as the others, but at least Ubbe seemed to be possible to persuade. 

 

 

 

She did not mention that the real reason was that she would never trust a Viking, no matter what he had promised her. It was commonly known that Vikings were some of the most distrustful people on earth and she was not going to test if the rumor were true or not. Not when her life was at stake.

 

 

 

"For fuck sake woman, don't you want any help?" He asked a little taken aback.  

 

 

 

"Look, I'm very tired, can we talk another time?" She pleaded him to stop the questing for now, unsure on how long she could avoid the unpleasant questions. She still had her original plan in play. She knew she would try to run away as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

 

 

 

"One last thing." Ubbe sounded very serious. She feared what he could want. 

 

 

 

"A name." He then said. "I would like to have a name to call you."  

 

 

 

"Fine!" She finally agreed. "If you'll let me alone then." She had expected that this would be unavoidable. "What do you propose?"

 

 

 

"I don't know," Ubbe said as he was thinking. He looked to be considering something.

 

 

 

"Linéa sounds like a fitting name for you." Ubbe suggested. “very Viking!" He looked at her. "It's the name of a little blue flower, it grows in my home country and has some special properties.”

 

 

 

"Whatever, you can call me what you want." She said reluctantly as she was getting anxious to get away, and a little annoyed by the insisting Viking. She understood why he could not just let her go, but started slowly to turn around to walk away.

 

 

 

"Get well, Nea." His voice had changed. She had to admit that she liked the way he pronounced the new nickname. It sounded sweet. She liked the 'little blue flower' reference to the new dress she had on.  

 

 

 

 "Thank you, I will try." Then she walked back towards her tent. She shortly turned around. “I’m still sorry that I misplaced your knife. It looked very pretty.”

 

 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” He replied and then as she had turned her back at him he added. “I’m sure we can find some way that you can repay me for my loss. I really liked that knife.”

 

 

 

Her only reply to him were the one she gave him as she flipped him off, not looking back at him at all. She heard him laugh at her response. She still needed to adjust to the perverse ill-mannered ways of the Vikings, but was starting to get more used to it already.

 

 

 

She felt relieved that he did not questioning her further, but settled so far with her explanation. She knew it would not last, and that a person like Ivar would see right through it. She just thank circumstances for him not being there at the moment.

 

 

 

She had not seen Ivar since they had been on his ship and there she had still been unconscious most of the time. Well, she had shortly discovered him spying on her, while being washed this morning by the older women, but that did not really count. It did not bother her that much. She concluded that as long as she could stay away from Ivar she could probably stick to her story for now.

 

 

 

She feared what was going to happen, especially when Hvitserk and Damon would arrive at the camp. She tried not to not linger in something she could not control anyway.

 

 

 

Her only hope was that Ubbe talking to them could help ease things out, but she did not want to put too much faith in his abilities. In general, she feared that she was already putting too much faith in a punch of unpredictable Vikings with a lot of backstory. ‘I’m so dead’ she thought as she finally arrived at her tent, completely drenched for energy and ready to go to sleep.

 

 

 

She only manage to tiredly take of her shoes before she passed out almost in air as she let her tired body fell down onto the bed.

 

 

 

 


	8. Murderer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! 
> 
> Sorry if you have been waiting for this update, but it's the longest so far! And I think it's worth the wait. ;)
> 
> Also, I have cleaned up ALL the previous chapters! Took a while, but now it's more coherent and moving in the same direction (Yay!).
> 
> I would probably need someone to beta it at some time, but since i haven't anyone yet you must bare with my mistakes! (feel free to let me know if you find any).
> 
>  
> 
> Also:  
> ** trigger warning **  
> for this chapter!

 

 

Drowning. 

 

 

 

That was how she felt initially - as if she was sinking down into the deepest and darkest water. She felt a pressure on her chest being build up and could really catch her breath.

 

 

 

The water -  which had carried her to the new and unknown place - was now embracing her from all around, forcing her down to the bottom of the ocean. 

 

 

 

Everything seemed hopeless and dark.

 

 

 

Then suddenly something changed.

 

 

 

She could see a small glance of light coming from above her in the else complete black water, and it was slowly increasing its brightness. 

 

 

 

The agonizing feeling of the deadly force pulling her down was starting to loosen a bit.

 

 

 

The light above her grew bigger, and bigger until it suddenly was not only a light but also a noise. 

 

 

 

The noise increased as the bright light came closer to her face. It started to form into something she could almost find coherent. 

 

 

 

The noise gradually turned into a voice. A man's voice!

 

 

 

She tried her best to understand, but the darkness still had a firm grip on her. 

 

 

 

"... wake... attack.." 

 

 

 

Something started to happen - she could feel a present of a person starting to appear far out in the distance. 

 

 

 

It was as if she was looking at this person through a blurry glass, or as if she was standing behind some thin curtain trying to focus on something impossible far away.

 

 

 

The area moved closer, the curtain became thinner, and the voice changed from a blurry whisper to someone talking close by. 

 

 

 

" .. we.. get away... up..." They were all words she had heard before, but she could not remember the meaning of any of them. What was going on around her? Where was this mysterious man? Why could she not find focus long enough to gather her thoughts? 

 

 

 

Then an earthquake started underneath her feet, shaking her whole body. The ground crumbled and the light was now getting as bright as the sun.

 

 

 

She abruptly woke up from the deepest sleep she had ever been in as she was opening her eyes wide open. 

 

 

 

A man standing over her was shaking her body fearfully. She was partly laying in her bed, still in the tent where she had been living the last couple of days. He finally stopped the movement of her upper body as she looked up at him. She welcomed the now steady state of her body and that she finally had the opportunity to focus on what or whom she was looking at.

 

 

 

The man gave her a second to gather her thoughts, as she was still laying half down studying him.

 

 

 

"Ivar." She said with a cracked voice and he looked somewhat relieved. Then, in the next second he crapped her shoulders in a firm hold. 

 

 

 

"We need to get you out of here. Now!" he stressed as he supported her and slowly started to pull her up by the grip on her shoulders. 

 

 

 

She felt how she was losing the control of her mind again and feared that she would slowly slip back into the daze. Her head felt dizzy from being lifted up to quickly.

 

 

 

"No, no. " She heard Ivar say as he halted the movement. "Stay with me! We need you conscious right now." he ordered firmly.

 

 

 

She wondered shortly about who ‘we’ was, but only until she saw that another person was standing close to her. It was one of the older women who have taken care of her. She was standing beside her bed, as Ivar shoved her lightly.

 

 

 

 The woman bathed her face with a cold wet cloth. She embraced the cool feeling on her forehead and came more to live after that.

 

 

 

"We need to go... Now." Ivar said looking around with concern clear in his face. He said something more, but she lost her focus for a little while again.

 

 

 

"... under attack." only some words stuck to her mind but she definitely recognizes those ones. It started an alert feeling inside her, and she forced herself to wake more up from the doze. 

 

 

 

She tried to get up, but lost her balance as blood disappeared from her head, making her lightheaded. ".. careful." she looked at the older woman who was standing with a lit bright lantern looking worried at her. She recognized her to be the one that had gone out to check who had arrived with the ships the other day. She felt internal grateful for her help when she had brought back the news of Ubbe's arriveal. 

 

 

 

The older woman looked rather frightened and was constantly checking around them. She began to understand the seriousness of the moment: Something was definitely scaring them. She continued to get up, slowly at first. 

 

 

 

"What is going on?" her first coherent sentence was almost drowned in loud yelling and continued loud noises coming from outside the tent, making the older women looking more distressed. Someone passed by close to the tent, and she could see a lit torch through the canvas.  

 

 

 

Ivar was supporting her around her back as he continued to help her up, having guided her legs out of the bed first. He was also watching around them, looking ready to battle anyone who entered. "We are under an attack, I don't know much more." he quietly whispered close to her ear as he held her hands and pulled her up to stand on her bare feet. 

 

 

 

She concluded that the ground was definitely rotating and it was making her feel very uncomfortably. 

 

 

 

She could sense how pained Ivar was by the whole situation. He clearly did not like to be out of control. 

 

 

 

Everything was moving way faster than what she would have liked, as she was still disoriented and wobbly from the sleep and her injury. The older woman blew out the light in the lantern and the danger of the situation was starting to really sink in. She fought of an unwanted feeling of fainting as she focused back on Ivar’s face. 

 

 

 

"We need to go." she could hear that Ivar was almost begging her as he whispered again, asking if she was alright but at the same time demanding that they needed to get moving.

 

 

 

She gave him a short nod. He answered with a small smile and then turned around dragging her with him, with a supporting arm around her waist.

 

 

 

'This is almost comical' she thought to herself. She was being almost carried out by the person born with disabilities, a strong one of that! He did not show a single sign of weakness or strain as he walked them both up to the entrance. 

 

 

 

He scouted out through the tent opening and then walked quickly out with her by his side. The older women was following right behind them. She could feel her hands pushing for support on her back as well. 

 

 

 

It were pitch black outside. All she could gather at first was a huge chaos with people shouting and screaming all around them. She tired the best she could to keep up with Ivar’s quick pace, but her bare feet were not helping, as she was not used to run barefooted outside on uneven ground. 

 

 

 

Ivar steered them in a fast pace through all the tumult, avoiding contact with anyone. Amazed by how quickly he could move through the chaotic camp, almost completely unperturbed by being born a cripple and without any crutches she just followed as good as she could.

 

 

 

She expected that he had probably trained his whole life with the supporting gear strapped around his legs preparing himself for battle and intense situations like this. He had probably been fighting many wars, even though she did not think he was that much older than her.

 

 

 

She wondered if he was ever really surprised by anything. He looked to be the type that would have been prepared for any situation. She knew he was a strategist, which probably meant you always were expecting the unexpected.

 

 

 

After having just barely avoided a huge fire that was spreading through a couple of tents and other establishments, they arrived at a more quite place between some tents in some of the outskirts of the camp. Ivar had finally slowed down and then halted completely. She was very grateful for the much needed break, as she felt completely out of breath. Even though she still felt disoriented of most of her body her feet definitely were not numb as they hurt like crazy.

 

 

 

It was still dark, but at least her sight was starting to adapt. 

 

 

 

Ivar had stopped and turned towards her at his side. "I need to find Ubbe and figure out what the hell is going on here." He did not at all sound to be out of breath as her. "...Then find my men and together kill the fuckers who think that they can get away with this shit!" 

 

 

 

She saw a fire burning in his eyes that scared her a little. He was steaming mad and looked very revengeful. It was only now that she discovered the bloody sword in his other hand, the one not supporting her, and the bow and quiver on his back. 

 

 

 

"Go with Gertrud and find a place to hide until it's over." He pointed towards the older lady and looked back at her. "Try to stay out of trouble until that. I'll find you afterwards." 

 

 

 

With that, he turned and looked around. As if he was forgetting something he turned back again and looked directly at her. She wanted to say something, but was still dizzy from it all and trying to catch her breath. 

 

 

 

To her surprise, he pulled a knife from his belt.

 

 

 

Ivar pointed with the handle of the blade at her, and she wrapped her fingers carefully around it. "Use it if necessary!" He instructed, as he now looked more satisfied with leaving them like this. He was looking her in her eyes at first, but then she saw his eyesight change as he refocused down on her neck. 

 

 

 

Her free hand came up and touched the covered wound on the side of her neck. She did not understand the unreadable face he showed, and waited for him to instruct her further.   

 

  

 

Ivar hesitated only for a millisecond before he stepped closer to her looking down. He bended down and with one hand behind her head he closed the space between them completely, connecting their lips.

 

 

 

The kiss was short and chased, but she managed to meet him on the way as they collided. The impact felt warm and wet, nothing like what she had expected or ever experienced before.

 

 

 

Not that she had expected anything happening like this just a few seconds ago - And it was not something she had ever done with her 'loving' husband who always had refused or neglected to kiss her on her mouth.  

 

 

 

This was really a first for her - and she was completely lost for words or means to gather any attempt of retaliation.       

 

 

 

It all ended as quickly as it started, as he pulled back and turned around in a haste. She observed him in silence still and perplexed as he ran away into the darkness with his sword ready at his hand, scouting his surroundings before disappearing behind an abandoned wagon.

 

 

She may still have been light-headed from the illness and exhausted from running, but now also puzzled from the kiss. She could still feel a trace of it lingering on her lips, as if he had left a memory there for her to keep. 

 

 

 

Completely surprised by her own reaction, and how she had let this sudden desire starting to flourish something new inside her, she felt disappointed about her own reaction. There was just something about the complicated Viking with a fire in his eyes.

 

 

 

'No no! You are not falling for any Viking! remember the plan' she had to tell herself as she snapped out of the moment.

 

 

 

Gertrud had woken her out of the daze as she was shaking her arm. They were still in the middle of a very dangerous situation and needed to get moving. Embarrassed by what the woman had just witnessed and her frozen in place as if she was some easy girl to seduce, she also wanted to quickly move on and get away from the situation.

 

 

 

The older woman guided them away from the noise and smoke back toward the surrounding forest. They could scarcely see other people running in the distance as shadows in the dark, but they kept to the more open part of the vegetation. 

 

 

 

Her mind kept going back to the moment with Ivar, as they walked quickly looking for cover behind the threes. Why had she kissed him back? Was she going to make everything more difficult on herself now? Did she hope that this attack on the Viking camp was her chance to escape or would she worry if anything would happen to her new acquaintances?

 

 

 

She only knew one thing for sure: She was not going to be seduced or deceived by anyone. Not again! 

 

 

 

She stopped her thoughts before they reminded her of too many painful memories. She had been betrayed before, and had absolutely no intentions on allowing herself feelings for anyone again. It was still too soon for her to think about the deep betrayal she felt in her heart - how her closest friend had deceived her and how stupid she still felt. He had probably never really been her real friend - their whole friendship was based on a lie. She had confided so many times to him about how she felt about her husband - What a complete idiot she had been.

 

 

 

A fire suddenly started right in front of her and she was only just able to avoid it by jumping to the side. She landed on her hands and face, tumbling through mud and dirt.

 

 

 

Finally still, she found her balance on her knees as she pushed strands of wild hair off her face. The older woman was a moment later at her side, given her a supporting hold on her arm helping her up from the ground. It was no longer dark in the forest, as the fire was illuminating everything up. They look around to find a new escape route. 

 

 

 

With a firm grasp on her Gertrud guided them out of the now smoke-filled woods, which slowly was being more and more ignited. Their possibilities were shrinking dangerously fast.    

 

 

 

They quickly discovered that it was arrows lit up by fire that were starting the whole cascade - And new ones were still flying through the air around them, burning everything they were hitting decreasing their options further. 

 

 

 

Completely terrified of being trapped inside a burning forest they had no other choice but to run back to the camp. They looked desperately for any other escape path, but the fire was now increasing so rapidly that they almost could not breathe. Their only option was to run straight back the way they had come from, and hope for the best. With a resignedly face Gertrud guided them out through the thick smoke. They were both trying to cover their mouths in their sleeves while they coughed out the unwanted sot that was starting to get into their lungs.

 

 

 

Her bare feet suddenly hit an unidentified soft object, and as she regained her footing without falling, she discovered with fear what she had hit. 

 

 

 

Bodies were starting to cover the ground around them as they neared the camp side – burning corpses of the less fortunate. People that had been killed by the many deadly arrows.

 

 

 

The complete horror of it all was too much for her to comprehend in the moment, still dizzy and exhausted, so running as fast as possible past it seemed like the best idea.  

 

 

 

It was really a miracle that they themselves haven't been hit yet she thought shortly. She had to refocus on Gertrud running in front of her, trying to keep her mind from terrifying thoughts. The older woman did not have a hold on her anymore, but they were still running very close together. 

 

 

 

It was an oblivious trap that they were running directly into – both of them knew it - but burning to death seemed like the worst of the two options.

 

 

 

She was coughing like crazy, as they finally ran out through the last line of trees. Smoke had been everywhere and she broke down on the ground not that long after, coughing and trying to get it out of her system and eyes welcoming the nice fresh air to her lungs.         

 

 

 

Her body had felt like it had been burning up from the inside. 

 

 

 

Abruptly, she was suddenly ripped up from the ground. Her arms and legs were tumbling around; as she completely lost the sense of where the ground was still being out of breathe.  

 

 

 

Moments later, she finally found her balance as she felt a pair of strong arms holding her up. She only had a part of a second to take in the horrific beast of a man dressed completely in black cloth and armor that had caught her. 

 

 

 

It was still dark, but she could easily see the menaced grin on the horrid man's face, before he then threw her into the arms of another just as monstrous looking guy standing close by.

 

 

 

They were laughing loudly, as hands were touching all over her hair and body.

 

 

 

Completely unaware of just how dangerous a situation she was in all she could think about was the old woman as she desperately tried to locate Gertrud looking around yelling her name fearing where the poor old woman went.  

 

 

 

She shouted as she tried to fright and shake her way out of the captivating grips, but she was no match against the strong man who laughed even further of her failed attempts. 

  

 

 

By pure luck she suddenly located Gertrud who was being held by another dreadful armor dressed man, not that far from her. She too was being captivated and harassed.

 

 

 

She could hear Gertruds scream as she suddenly was kicked down to the ground by the gruesome brute. 

 

 

 

It was like the poor old woman's cry started a rage inside her – and she suddenly remembered the knife from Ivar. She quickly drew it secretly from her belt as she was being passed around again. The two foul men around her apparently had not bothered to search her for weapons, and she hid the blade behind her long sleeve.

 

 

 

It all happened in less than a few seconds from that moment: 

 

 

 

As the second guy was starting to throwing her back at the first, she readied her knife waiting for the right moment to make contact. 

 

 

 

When the distance between them had decreased enough, she quickly eyed a weak spot in the first brute’s black armor and sank the blade deep into the gut of the crimson man. He had just been standing there unaware with his arms out ready to catch her. It was a perfect hit and nobody understood what had happened.  

 

 

 

She quickly used the confusion to run towards Gertrud as she was now released from the second guy and not caught by the first, who was slowly collapsing to the ground while she passed him.    

 

 

 

She was already beside Gertrud as the men finally understood what had happened but she was entirely ignoring everything else but her. The poor woman was laying on the ground yelling in pain. 

 

 

 

She had a comforting hand on her chin, the other behind her back to try and guide her up from the ground. Her luck had ran out, as the men had finally caught up to her. She only had a brief moment to look into the eyes of the older woman before they were dragging them apart again. 

 

 

 

Despite the obvious pain that the older woman clearly was experiencing, it had surprised her that there had been no hint of fear or remorse to detect in Gertrud’s gray-stained eyes. The older woman had only sent her an assuring and comforting smile, like she was telling her not to worry about her.

 

 

 

She could not believe it, as disbelief showed in her face. Nothing was fine! She could not just watch while the poor woman suffered. One of the monsters was throwing Gertrud to the ground again, while she had her hands held behind her back by another creep.    

 

 

 

The wicked man that she had hurt with the knife was apparently already up from the ground now standing in front of her. He had a hand around the handle of the blade that was still resting disgustingly deep in his middle. Blood was slowly staining his clothing, the leather armor, and now also the hand, but nothing else could be seen of the injury.

 

 

 

He looked furiously as he was looking down at her, yelling in some to her unknown language, but it did not sound at all like the Nordic she had been listing to the past weeks.  

 

 

 

She tried to look past him to catch an eye of what was happening to poor Gertrud. 

 

 

 

The injured brute clearly noticed how she did not listen to him, as he then almost sent her to the ground again by slamming her across her face with his other free hand. 

 

 

 

The blow to her face had her almost passing out for a second as the extreme pain now raged through her head. 

 

 

 

She started to taste blood and it felt like her lower lip was exploding in agony. It was probably swollen to double the size she weakly thought, before gaining her focus back on the infuriated and violent man in front of her.       

      

 

 

He was still yelling a lot of shit she had no clue about, but then a distressed feeling crossed her as he apparently ordered the older woman to stand in front of her.  

 

 

 

The injured man was screaming something, repeatedly. However, she did not understand anything and she only tried to plea with a carefully begging of: "No, no, please don’t hurt her anymore." She was shaking her head as she saw other men gathering close around them. 

 

 

 

"Please listen, don't hurt her!" she begged the men while tears was running down her cheeks. "Please, spare her!" she was completely terrified and feared that they were going to hurt Gertrud as a punishment to her. Nevertheless, her words had no apparent effect on them. 

 

 

 

The furious man suddenly in a swift movement pulled out the blade from his guts not making any sound or revealing any emotions whatsoever. It scared her into her bones. This gruesome group of men were used to pain and to inflict pain as well.

 

 

 

"Please... She's innocent!" she still tried to beg the aroused crowd.   

 

 

 

"No innocent!" The words shocked her completely. The man did speak her language after all, at least enough to understand what she had said. Nevertheless, knowing this only frightened her further and she just watched helplessly. His words had sound so strict and concluding. 

 

 

     

 The crowd was ferociously yelling and clearly excitingly awaiting for the next move. 

 

 

She held in her breath as the beast of a man leaned down close by her face. He reeked of blood, sweat and what she fought could only be death. With the bloody knife in his blood-filled hand, he waved it around inches in front of her eyes. 

 

 

 

He then licked a thick stripe with his disgusting tongue along her right cheekbone slowly all the way up to her ear. "Say, goodbye." The man then whispered lowly while breathing into her ear. A final tear ran down her other cheek, as she was standing completely still. Her hands was still hold tight behind her back.     

 

 

 

She prepared herself for the contact, as she waited for it all to be over any second. Her mind was turning blank. She had no final thoughts, just waited as she was staring blankly out in front of her.   

 

 

 

Then, suddenly the man turned around facing his back to her. 

 

 

 

For a moment, she was confused but still awaiting the next move, expecting it to be her ending. 

 

 

 

She screamed in surprise as she suddenly saw Gertrud fall to the ground. She had not really been paying attention, but had expected the next blow to be hers. Not Gertrud’s!         

 

 

 

"Nooo!" she yelled as she realized what had happened in front of her. The woman was now resting on the ground on her front completely still. 

 

 

 

"You fucking monster." She cried, as she felt completely heartbroken for the poor innocent woman. She had not deserved to die like that. The crowd around was howling and cheering, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.          

 

 

 

She had not known the poor Gertrud for very long, and knew really nothing about her, but still she felt her heart splinter into a thousand little pieces as she cried and mounded her death. 

 

 

 

A red pool of blood was slowly spreading out from under the now lifeless body. 

 

 

 

The barbaric man who had killed the poor old woman stood again in front of her, but she could not take her eyes of all the blood. He yelled something, and she was pushed from behind released by the man her holding her hands, and felt down to the ground.            

 

 

 

She landed on her hands, elbows and knees...

 

 

... in the huge warm red puddle.

 

 

 

She screamed and cried again, fully flooded by fear and nausea as her clothes were completely soaked by the older woman’s fresh blood. 

 

 

 

The disrespectful behavior the disgusting people executed made her dizzy, and she could almost not breathe by the revolt she felt towards the howling and laughing crowd around her. She wanted to make them pay for what they had done. She felt a deep hate starting to rise in her heart. She wanted them dead! All of them.      

 

 

 

In the next moment, she felt a powerful pull on her hair from behind. She yelled in pain as her head was forcefully moved up while she was still resting on her knees in the pool of blood. The movement forced her to look up into the eyes of the monster responsible for it all.      

 

 

 

He had a wicked smile on and leaned down close to her face. He said something and then his blood-covered hand seized around her throat. 

 

 

 

She had trouble with breathing evenly as he pulled her close forcing her to stand up quickly. 

 

 

 

The foul looking man was painted with black patterns on his face, and else covered in dirt and what she assumed was dried off blood. He reeked so awful, she could not stand how it made her nausea. 

      

 

 

She tried to catch her breath while hitting and kicking him to fight her way out, but his strong grip only tightened. She held both hands around his grip on her neck, but it was not enough.

 

 

 

She felt how she was starting to lose her conscience slowly; she really needed more air and soon!

 

 

 

The man laughed at her and then released her falling to the ground.

 

 

 

She coughed furiously, trying to breathe in as much needed air as possible. Before she had gained any footing and while still trying to retain her breath back to normal she was dragged back up again. 

 

 

 

This time, something was up. The crowd wasn't just laughing and howling as before. 

 

 

 

The noise around them had changed. It was still too dark to see far ahead, but she could definitely hear different kinds of yelling now. 

 

 

 

And fighting! She was almost certain that she heard swords swinging and hitting, but before she could start to feel any kind of relief, she was flying in the air again! 

 

 

 

The hideous murderer had swung her over his shoulder; she was still regaining her focus as she now observed the world upside down.  

 

 

 

The bastard was running away from the fighting. She could now see it more clearly as the fire from the nearby forest was getting closer and enlightening the area. 

 

 

 

Even hanging over a shoulder, she could recognize the figures attacking the black dressed vicious crooks. 

 

 

 

It was Vikings!

 

 

 

Leading them on was a guy that did not look very much like a Viking, at least not in the partly darkness from what she could see.

 

 

 

He was running with incredible speed and fighting of the murderous evil brutes with an ease and grace that did not at all match any of the Vikings. Not that she had seen that much before running off with the small group, but she had at least seen Vikings train and this was something very different from that. 

 

 

    

The sight shocked her as she saw the mysterious man snap the neck of a mountain of a man like it was as easy as breaking a small branch. 

 

 

 

She could not see anymore, as the bastard she was currently being transported on had run past some tents, hiding from the attackers. 

 

 

 

She tried to hammer on his back, and kick with her feet to escape, but he just ignored it and tightened his grip more around her legs. It was pointless to try to fight him off with strength; he clearly overpowered her by a lot.      

 

 

            

He kept running and turning past tents and other objects she could not see from her perspective on the back, but then suddenly he had ran straight into one of the empty tents.  

 

 

 

He threw her down from his shoulder and onto an empty standing table, hitting her back hard against the wood. She had cried out in pain but he had quickly held a hand over her mouth to quiet her down.     

 

 

 

He held a knife up in front of her face and made a sign for her to be quiet. He was clearly listening to their surroundings and she held in her breath as she tried to calm herself down forgetting the hurt from her back. 

 

 

 

The knife in his hand looked rather large and dirty. She did definitely not want to be touched or worse killed by it.  

 

 

 

He seemed to be satisfied with the silence surrounding them as he then send her a menacing wide smile.

 

 

 

It started an alarming feeling in her body.

 

 

 

With the knife still right in front of her face, he removed his hand from her mouth. She could not do anything but stay completely quite, praying for someone saving her from this nightmare. 

 

 

 

His now free hand wander down ghosting over her neck, then gripping dreadfully around one of her breasts. He smiled and even bended down to ghost over her face with his foul breath. 

 

 

 

Then he licked her cheek this time down to her mouth. She tried to turn her head away from him and fend him of with her hands, but he pressed the blade into her skin on her chin as a reminder. She went fearfully still after that.

 

 

 

At the same time, his hand had let go from hurting her breast, but only to move further down her body. "No!" she yelp shortly, but was quiet down as he forced his mouth on hers. It was very brutal and hurting, and she wanted to scream with pain from her lip that was still burning from being hit earlier.    

 

 

 

His hand has working its way down her dress, now hurrying more as he tried to rip it up past her knees. 

 

 

 

He leaned down pressing against her body, now with her bare legs exposed. She wanted to scream as much as her lungs would allow her to, but the deadly knife was pressed into her chin and she felt completely powerless. Tears was running down her cheeks.  

 

 

 

She couldn't say anything, only kept praying for someone to come and save her from the monster on her.

 

 

 

She feared it was hopeless.

 

 

 

No-one had seen them disappear. She was going to be raped and probably killed afterwards. She could not think of a worse way to die.    

 

 

 

She had almost no more tears to shed and felt like her life had been way too short and insignificant for it to just end in this way.

 

 

 

She needed to learn more, to experience more and in the most distant part of her mind a little voice begged for her to actually get to meet true love, at least just faintly touch upon it. She just needed more time.   

 

 

 

As if someone had heard her desperate prayer a shape suddenly, entered in through the tents opening. Clearly, the man on top of her had not noticed, as he shouted with surprise while he in the next moment was thrown away from her. 

 

 

 

Flying up in the air, the rapist bastard's only defense was to kicked around like a crazy person. He ended with hitting the table she had been pressed down onto. It tumbled over and she shouted in surprise and tumbled with it, making almost a backflip in air landing down half on her knees and arms, half on her side behind the now fallen table. 

 

 

 

She needed a second to grasp what had happened, catching her breath.

 

 

 

She felt relief flow through her body. Maybe she wasn’t dying yet?

 

 

 

She then carefully looked up from behind the tilted table fearing who it was that had entered, and maybe saved her life.  

 

 

 

The bastard that had just tried to rape her was tumbling up on his feet with his back facing her, at the same time trying to fight the person who had pulled him away from her. She could not really see who the newcomer was as he was standing behind the evil brute.

 

 

 

The hideous man tried to cut the stranger with the knife he still had in his hand, but the newly arrived man was moving much faster than what he could master to follow. 

 

 

 

She recognized the movement and grace from before, even though this time it was not from a downward perspective. It was the same 'not Viking'-man she had observed attacking along with the Vikings. 

 

 

 

Apparently, the bastard's failed attempts of resistance was all in vain, as the guy just easily caught his arm, making the brute scream with pain and she heard the knife hit the floor. 

 

 

 

It made the bastard move do to the pained situation giving her a clear view of the graceful fighter.

 

 

 

She exhaled sharply in a surprised recognition. Standing there fighting for her was the person who was the reason for the weak condition she had been in ever since they met the first time. 

 

 

 

Damon was standing there with a calm but enrage expression.

 

 

 

He looked very different from what she remembered. She still had no idea of what exactly had happened, and why or how she was injured.  

 

 

 

It was all very diffuse and certainly confusing.

 

 

 

His angry eyes were like the darkness of the night surrounded by a blood-like color. His appearance scared her, and she still did not feel quite safe yet.

 

 

 

There was blood all over him: On his clothes, hands and face! It was quite a frightening sight. 

 

 

 

The next movement did not at all clam her down further - quite opposite really.   

 

 

 

Damon had suddenly exposed a set of deadly fangs, and in the next second, he leaned in and bit deep into the neck of the bastard who screamed in pain.

 

 

 

Blood was splashing everywhere as Damon in a quick movement ripped out the throat of the defenseless brute. 

 

 

 

The lifeless body collapsed onto the ground as Damon spit the ripped of part back at him. Blood was flying al around through the air.

 

 

 

He was now looking down directly on her with a pair of blood fuming eyes. She was still covering mostly behind the titled table frozen in place. 

 

 

 

As he took a quick step towards her, she felt back on her hands in fear.

 

 

 

She could not move anymore. There was so much blood. She could not understand what she had just witnessed.   

 

 

 

The table was suddenly lifted and thrown easily out of the way by Damon. He still looked fuming with rage as he walked closer to her. 

 

 

 

Standing in front of her, he offered her his hand. It took her a couple of seconds to understand that it was a kind gesture. She nervously took his hand, and he carefully pulled her up from the ground. 

 

 

 

His fangs were no more visible, she tried to take that as a good sign, but she still wanted to take it slowly with the trust. She was convinced that he could quickly expose them again if needed.

 

 

     

"Are you okay?" he asked her lowly, her hand still in his. 

 

 

 

She did not know exactly what to answer to that: ‘No?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘What the hell just happened?’ ‘You killed that man with your fangs?’ ‘Fangs?’

 

 

 

She just looked confused at him, slowly letting go of his hand.

 

 

 

He shook his head shortly, as he then rephrases the unanswered question: "Are you  _hurt_?" He said it with a specific pressure on the word 'hurt'. She is not sure what he means. 

 

 

 

He points at her body. 

 

 

Surprised she looks down. Her clothes, hands and most of her skin were covered in blood. She shook her head shortly. "Not mine" is all she can find the words to say, as painful memories clouds her mind. 

 

 

 

"Stop!" he then orders ripping her out of her thoughts, looking closely into her eyes.

 

 

 

"You need to stay focused, at least for a little while yet.” He says determinedly. “Did you hear were they came from? Did you see more running off? What did they want?" Damon asked in a quick ranting, clearly still affected by the fighting.  

 

 

 

She just shakes her head; tears are already running down her cheeks. He looks unimpressed at her in silence, but it could also just be his normal expression she really could not tell. 

 

 

 

He observes her for a moment, standing still close to her. Then they hear someone approaching somewhere outside the tent. 

 

 

 

"In here!" Damon shout aloud. She wonders shortly how he can know it's not some of the enemies, but gets distracted by his intense stare with his still dark eyes.     

 

 

 

She finally gathers the courage to speak. "Thank you." She said shortly and he looked partly surprised by her words. "Just, thank you."

 

 

 

"You have nothing to thank me for." Damon sharply replied. "I'm not a hero. Don't thank me for something like this..." He adds displeased and points to the dead body on the floor.   

 

 

 

"I don't understand what happened, not here nor with me before." She tells him truthfully. “But you still saved my life right now, and for that I am grateful.”

 

 

 

He signs shortly. "I guess no-one told you anything then?" She just answers with a nod.

 

 

 

His face turns impossible more unimpressed or maybe displeased. She finds him strangely difficult to read.

 

 

 

He signs shortly, as he tries to dry of some of the blood running down from his mouth in his long black sleeve.   

 

 

 

"Well, the sort version is: I'm cursed." His look wanders away from her, he is starring at nothing as he continues: "I'm strong, I'm fast, but it comes with a price ..." She listens closely as he explains his story, but then he takes a large step back away from her.

 

 

 

"I feed of people. Or more precisely; I feed of human blood." He looks at her now with a sort of explanatory expression, like he expected to scare her away. 

 

 

 

Fearfully she holds her ground. Of course she was scared as shit, but she was trying her best to keep up a brave face.

 

 

 

"Normally I can control it, the desire for blood..." he continues apparently content with fact that she looked like she still was listening.

 

 

 

"That day with you." He hesitates for a moment.".. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." That is his last words, as he then turned around, walking towards the tents exit.

 

 

 

".. I.. but.." her words was already too late, as Damon had already left her alone in the tent.

 

 

 

Confused by what she had just learned and experienced she pressed her hand to her forehead, and felt a headache starting. 

 

 

 

In the next second, Ubbe came running in through the tent curtain with an ax and sword raised in his hands. Both weapons were drenched in blood, and his expression reminded her of a wild animal ready to fight anyone who stood in his way. 

 

 

 

She wondered shortly if Damon had known that Ubbe would arrive just in this moment.

 

 

 

Ubbe saw her standing there, apparently satisfied with her being able to stand, but not liking how she was covered in blood, and started to check the tent.

 

 

 

Following close behind Ubbe, Hvitserk quickly peeked in through the entrance. As Ubbe had noticed the dead man on the ground.

 

 

 

Hvitserk gave a small nod towards Ubbe, and then left them alone as he ran away with his sword and shield raised. 

 

 

 

"Have they hurt you?" Ubbe had stopped his apparent investigation of the interior of the larger tent, and turned his attention completely towards her. 

 

 

 

She shook her head as she quickly replied: "It's not my blood. I'm  _fine_." but her voice cracked with the last word, clearly not convincing anyone.  

 

 

 

"Let's get you out of here." Ubbe offered, while fixing his ax in the side of his belt. He then held out a hand for her, with a concerned look clear on his face. 

 

 

 

She thankfully took his offered hand, as she knew she did not trust her own legs that much further. She felt how she was balancing on the edge between consciousness and passing out any minute.

 

 

 

Finally out if the tent she embraced the fresh air that were enclosed around her.

 

 

 

Ubbe had a firm grip around her middle, supporting her exhausted body. 

 

 

 

She could still see the light from the fire in the distance, but it looked to be dying out slowly, as the wet forest no longer had burning arrows adding to keep the fire going. 

 

 

 

It looked like they had defeated the suddenly invading brutal clan, as only Vikings seemed to be anywhere around them. 

 

 

 

There was a strange quietness spreading through the camp, like a silent grumbling of annoyance. 

 

 

 

She could only speculate in how harmful such a surprise attack on their own camp was to the Vikings’ strong sense of pride.     

 

 

 

"So this is where you are hiding, brother." A loud voice sounded from behind them. 

 

 

 

They turned carefully around and saw that a single horse carriage was approaching them. She recognized it easily, as she had been riding with it not that long ago. 

 

 

 

Ivar had a very disapproving look on. She shortly wondered if that was his default emotional expression.   
  
  
  
"Always checking in on the ones you find to be weaker than yourself." Ivar commented sharply. "Always such a good big brother." he said with sarcasm clear in his voice.

  
  
Ubbe was clearly used to Ivar’s insulting comments and did not bite on his provocative comment.

 

 

 

She did not understand the banter that was going on between them but clearly, they had some issues. She just hoped to not find herself entangled into the mess ever - That would definitely only mean big trouble.  


  
"You know, if you at some point started trusting people around you, you might be surprised by how much not needed you really are." Ivar certainly knew how to push his brother. She could feel how he was looking for someone to rage out at, or to blame for what happened.

  
  
"Hvitserk arrived with the last of our ships just as the attack had started, you egoistic prick!" Ubbe bit back. "I merely ran out to explain what was going on, we needed them to fight."     

 

  
  
Ubbe looked down at her. "No man is more ready for a fight than one who have been confined to a ship for a longer period of time." He explained to her but probably also to convince Ivar of his actions.

 

 

 

She guessed that was why Viking raids from the sea were so infamous for their successes and deadliness...

  
  
"Although I did not have to explain anything to Damon" Ubbe’s report disrupting her line of thoughts. "As if he already knew on arrival, I saw him jump into the ocean and swim in to the shore way before his ship had even readied the ores."   


  
"He ran straight past me, like he had an exact place he aimed for." Ubbe explained confused by what he had observed.   


  
"He probably did." Ivar commented.

 

 

 

"How so? He had had no contact with anyone here.” Ubbe wondered adding: “He might have seen the fires.”

  
  
Ivar send his brother an obviously look. "She told him." He replied as he pointed to her who was still supported by Ubbes arm. 

 

  
  
"I did not do anything." She answered confused and quite tired of Ivar’s little games.

 

 

 

Heatedly she continued: "I was kinda busy with being captured, witness to a brutal murder of a kind soul and then almost raped!" She did not know where she had the sudden energy from, but she was quite angry by the hold up. She just wanted some peace and quiet and to be able to rest.   


  
"If it had not been for Damon, who came and killed the bastard, I fear I would not have been alive right now!" She yelled accusingly at Ivar.  


  
He only smiled down at her. "Exactly."    
  
  
  
"What?" but she was done with explanations. Had he even been listening? Did he care at all of what she just told him, she feared the answer but mostly she feared that she was disappointed of him. She did not care for any Viking - she told herself again.

  
  
As if Ubbe could feel her fatigue, he ignored Ivar as well and before she knew, he was carrying her in his arms.  

  
  
"Let's find a safe place for you to rest." Ubbe said together with more things but she was already dosing off. "... ignorant bastard." Was the last thing she heard.  


  
With that, her body had finally given in, letting any further worries be part of 'tomorrows' problems.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? 
> 
>  
> 
> Can't wait to give you the next couple of chapters! (I have a lot going on, but still need to put it into a linear story!)
> 
>  
> 
> Btw. I have no idea how long this story is going to be, the ideas in my head is sometimes overwhelming and extensive.


	9. Punish them all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time - a little more about the past. ;)

 

 

He was so tired of being furious for weeks, but still he could not just let this go.

 

  
  
He was walking up the stairs to the king's study were he - the king of this imbecilic palace - had ordered all of his most brilliant generals and military strategists to assemble together with his friends and allies the he trusted in.

 

 

 

If there were a way to solve this tiny pestilence of a problem - those men would have the answer. He was sure of it.

 

 

 

He needed it to be true. If he was to keep his sanity! 

 

 

  
He had endured the last year, trying his best to at least tolerate having a wife just to please the inescapable 'oldest counsel'. 

 

 

 

The woman had after a year still not produced any heir – not even shown the smallest sign of one being on the way. It felt like this was just his luck. 

 

 

 

She had during the year she had been his queen become a larger irritation than he would like to admit – not because of her personality, he barely knew her, it was because of what she represented. It would always be the biggest lie of his life. The real thing that he wanted above all else was something that would never be understood or accepted for a king.

 

 

 

Later, he had only found her present at the court tolerable when he just ignored her. He would maybe feel sorry for her, for being left alone in an unfamiliar place, but he had too much to worry about as a king, and too many mixed feelings in it all.

 

 

 

If she had just become pregnant – he would probably had tried to accept her present more.

 

 

 

Of course, when he finally had chosen a wife, it would turn out to be the most infertile woman in the whole realm.

 

 

 

Why did the gods mock him like this? 

 

 

 

Of course, he knew that making a baby was not always happening instantly, but a year?

 

 

 

He had hoped that a couple of months would have been sufficient and then he would had been free for visiting her in her chamber for at least some time after the child had been born.

 

 

 

Then after a couple of children had been produced, hopefully a lot of boys, then he would be completely free from visiting her at all. 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, that plan was not anyway near being realized. 

 

 

 

Now she had gone and got herself abducted by those disastrous sons of whores.  

 

 

 

Those fifthly Vikings had ruined it all! They were the root to all of his misery.

 

 

 

What was he supposed to do now?

 

 

 

Where had they taken her? What was their plan?

 

 

 

Could she even be considered dead already so he would have to start this whole damn thing over again? He dreaded the answer - the kingdom needed an heir no matter what, and better now than later - It was the only way he could secure his future as the rightful king.

 

 

 

The row of questions were endless and no solutions to his problems were even vaguely appearing in the horizon.  

 

 

 

Those bastards had ruined it all and had just gotten away with it!

 

 

  
  
That was the worst part about it all: That there was no one to punish. 

 

 

 

There had been a smaller part of division of Vikings inside his city, and three all the way inside his palace walls, and still those fucking Viking brothers had gotten out and  just  vanished as if they could move faster than what was human possible.

 

 

 

No one had even been captured alive. All of the remaining Vikings had died in battle protecting the eastern entrance at the outer city wall. For fuck sake - he really despised Vikings and their ways!

 

 

 

It had completely ruined their chances of catching up with the escaping intruders, as there had been no sign anywhere of where the bastards had run to after a couple of miles out of the roads. The damn whether had washed it all away.

 

 

 

Aaargh! The anger he felt in his heart was burning him up from the inside!

 

 

  
Apparently, the capital -  _his_  capital - was the easiest thing in the world to just wander into completely unnoticed, steel what is his, and then just leave as they wanted.

 

 

 

_They_  had been able to escape the place, without anyone performing any significant attempt of stopping them.

 

 

 

The hole they had plastered threw his palace wall was a big fat insult to his pride.

 

 

 

They had been so cocky and demolished a part of the wall that was over hundreds of years old. It had been known to be indestructible!

 

 

  
He felt like a joke. Like anyone was just laughing behind his back, conspiring against him.

 

 

 

Certainly, the Vikings were laughing at him now.

 

 

 

That was what made him even angrier. He needed to get some of this anger out, by punishing something or someone preferably a Viking! But again: no one where alive, no one had been punished yet!

 

 

  
Actually it was not completely true.

 

 

 

Someone had been punished for their incompetence and unacceptable amateurish behavior, but only men from his own guarding posts.

 

 

 

The satisfaction by listening to their screams was just not anyway near what it would be when he would finally get his hands on those worthless Viking shits. 

 

 

  
What a wonderful day it will be the day he would see that arrogant gimp hang lifeless from the noose.

 

 

  
He had recognized Ivar Boneless as one of the Vikings that had been in the palace garden that night.

 

 

 

Even from a long distance, he was easy to distinguish as one of the intruders. The other ones had probably been some of his smaller minded but just as provoking brothers. 

 

 

  
One day - he knew it would come. 

 

 

 

One day - he would have all the spawn of Ragnar Lothbrok hanged for their crimes conducted in his realm.

 

 

 

It would be the most glorious day of them all, even the thought made him smile a little. He was completely confident in his own accomplishments that he was completely convinced that the day would come - And hopefully soon!

 

 

  
  
He had sworn on it the day they had been the cause of his father’s death.

 

 

  
He had only been nineteen when it happened, but was just as sure on it to this day. 

 

 

  
  
Losing his father had been the worst he had ever experienced in his life, and from that day, he had sworn an eternal war on Vikings.

 

 

 

It was not that he had loved his father excessively, or that it was a great heartache he felt.

 

 

 

No - he knew himself to be very well educated and flawlessly in control of his emotions. When he showed anger or empathy, it was always intentionally. The reason for his hatred for losing his father was how it made him feel powerless. As if he was not in control and the extreme rage he had shown afterwards was only an embarrassing proof hereof.  

 

 

  
  
He had sworn that he forever would make the Vikings an outlawed people, and that he one day would revenge his father’s death.

 

 

 

Then the world would finally see him as the all-powerful king he truly was.

 

 

 

God help those who would try to stand in his way or even be so bolt and help the Vikings. They would all meet the same faith as them.

 

 

 

Now, he just needed to calm down and make a plan. That was why he had called the meeting in the first place. The last generals and allies had finally arrived at his castle. 

 

 

 

 Now - it was time for action!

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

The meeting was not going the way he had predicted it. 

 

 

 

They had been at least 10 people in the room sitting around the long table for hours now, but nothing useful had been added to the table to help with any of their problems.

 

 

 

He had been the only one who had come up with some maybe headstrong suggestions, but at least they would get something done. 

 

 

 

Their responses had all been lacking any kind of excitement or understanding of his plans and vision.

 

 

 

Even his most trusted friend, who was also the commander of his personal guard, was not following his ideas.

 

 

 

Christian had always trusted Jon to have his back, but this group he had been surrounded with for a couple of hours were just impossible.

 

 

 

When no solutions had appeared to be anywhere close, he had angrily dismissed most of the incompetent militaristic personal.

 

 

 

"Argh!" He yelled now angrily as he slammed his hand down into the table. He was leaning in over it, looking down at his hands who were supporting on the wooden craft.

 

 

 

"How the hell is a man gonna get his revenge, if not a single man on his war counsel has any vision or dares take any risk whatsoever!" 

 

 

 

"It's war for fuck sake! Of course it is going to involve some risks." He complained as he looked between the now mostly empty chairs.

 

 

 

"Its simple - this time it is not worth the risk" Jon Snow exclaimed worried still sitting down at the table, hands folded in front of him.

 

 

  
  
"What risk? The risk of killing a whole lot of murderous Vikings?" Christian mocked. "That is no risk, but a God-given opportunity!"     

 

 

  
  
"You know that you cannot quantity the safety of the queen." This time it was king Aragorn who spoke up. "Such an attack is putting a high risk on harming her or in worst case ending her life."  He was calmly leaning against the ledge of a window, not that far from the table. For such an official meeting, the king of Gondor had been wearing his black uniform and crown, which he had left now on the table as the room had been emptied.

 

 

  
  
"We'll figure something out. You all speak as if we know for sure that she is still alive." Grey complained as he tried to convince his friends. "But we have had no sign of this since she disappeared that night. its been weeks now…" 

 

 

  
"I agree. It is not comforting knowing that we have heard nothing about her condition yet." An attractive eleven man added to the conversation. Legolas Greenleaf was the son of the Elvenking Thranduil, making him the prince of the Woodland Realm. He wore an olive-green coat, and a small woven headpiece.

 

 

 

He was standing beside Aragorn, with his back turned towards the table as he was looking out through the window of the tower - observing.

 

 

 

"If they were working to get a release agreement arranged, surely they would had set up the first contact already by now, would you not agree?" The elven prince wondered.

 

 

  
  
"The Vikings would be eager to brag about their catch." Aragorn said as he took a step closer to the table, closer to Christian.

 

 

 

"Eager to get an exclusive deal for the exchange to set up to their advantage. They would not wait - they could not stop themselves." The king of Gondor voiced what they all had been wondering. 

 

 

  
  
"You mean be as smug as Vikings usually tents to be?" Jon grunted. "Something is not right about this." They all knew it, and feared what it could mean. 

 

  
  
  
"Maybe they lost her?" Aragorn tried to argue. "Maybe she somehow escaped them?" However, even has he said it, it sounded like he did not really believe it.

 

 

  
  
"A woman escaping the wrath of Ragnar Lothbrok sons?" Grey had an unreadable facial expression on. 

 

 

 

"Escaping that crippled son of a bastard..." He was silent for a short moment, as they all could detect the many resentful feelings that went through him.

 

 

 

"... Not possible." was all he said not opening it for any more discussion. 

 

  
  
  
"They cannot - would not just kill her without reason." Jon tried but even he doubted the truth in his words. "It wouldn't make any sense!" he argued. 

 

 

  
"Since when were Vikings famous for their sanity?" Aragorn said with irritation clear in his voice. "I have dealt with their kinds before, and you can never trust them for anything other than suddenly turning around on their promises and do something completely crazy." 

 

 

  
"I have heard enough." Grey was ready to end the small gathering. "In the end it’s my decision." 

 

 

  
"You can't just declare her to be dead." Jon argued standing up from the chair. He was getting frustrated from how easily his king was dismissing his own queen and continued: "We have to do something, so we can confirm whether or not it’s true. If she is alive somewhere out there…" 

 

  
  
  
"What will you have me do then?" Grey asked irritated as he interrupted him, arms out to his side giving a resignedly appearance. "I have already sent out all of our scouts to this whole forsaken kingdom and even some of the neighboring realms. None of them could confirm anything."  

 

 

  
  
"They could literally be anywhere by now." Christian was done with arguing and wanted to end the last part of their meeting now.

 

 

 

"We need to be patient.” Jon tried, and Aragorn added: “At some point they will fuck up, and leave a trace!"

 

 

 

“We could try get in contact with your brother.” Jon said with a clear voice as he looked straight up at Grey. He knew he was entering a dangerous subject now.

 

 

 

“You dare mention him now?” The king was clearly caught completely of guard and had a resentful look on his face. “After all he has done to me, you think he would ever help with anything?” His voice was loud and clear.

 

 

“That traitor choose his doom a long time ago.” Christian tried to calm himself down as he slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding back. “We are done now!” He finally sad as he was about to turn around and leave the room.

 

 

  
"Well, I have sought of an idea." Legolas said lowly, making Christian stop in his movement. The elven prince still had his back turned at the lot of them. "But it’ll involve taking some risk." He said with a low voice.

 

 

  
"What are you talking about? We need to be careful." Aragorn commented clearly concerned for what Legolas could be suggesting.

 

 

  
"Finally, someone is adding something real to this problem. What do you have in mind?" Christian asked curiously regaining hope in his friend’s usefulness. The bitter taste he had in his mouth was slowly disappearing.

 

 

  
"I know it may sound crazy, but if we are willing to have a little faith, I have an idea about how we find their location and confirm the whereabouts of the Queen." Legolas said as he slowly turned around and walked up to the table.

 

 

 

"We simply let them show us the way!"

 

 

 


	10. Preparing

 

 

 

"I'm sorry about Gertrud's death." She said with tears starting to appear in the corner of her eyes.

 

 

 

"I know it was my fault, and I just want to..." 

 

 

 

"It was not your fault." Ivar quickly responded, but without looking at her.

 

 

 

He could probably easily sense her self-blaming tone and continued a little later: "I ordered her to stay close to you and help you, and then you were both attacked." He simply stated the facts as he saw them as he was still focused on his work in front of him.

 

 

 

"But I..." she tried to find the words through her pain as she dried away the small tears, but found none.

 

 

 

She just stood there for a moment and stared out over the sea, not really seeing anything trying to silence her many thoughts.

 

 

 

"She has found peace now. Don't be sad about that." Ivar said lowly as he quickly looked up at her, and then back at the papers in his hand. "She had wanted that for quite some time now." 

 

 

 

"I don't understand...?" She was very confused about how someone could had wanted anything like that.

 

 

 

"Ever since her only son died a couple of years ago in a glorious fight,” Ivar sounded like he was very proud of this deceased Viking fighter. “… She was left alone." He had to stop for a minute to yell at some men who had arrived down at beach.

 

 

 

"He was one of my best warriors - I vowed to her to keep her safe and make sure she was always taken cared of." Ivar explained after having guided some men who was down in one of the newly arrived ships.

 

 

 

She had no idea about what was said as they were only talking in their Nordic language, but understood that they were working on some repairs or changes on the ship. His words lingered with her for a moment. Ivar had been kind and generous to the old woman - it made a deep impression in her.

 

 

 

"All she really ever wanted was to be reunited with him in Valhalla. Now, her wish was finally granted to her. Don't feel bad about it - we should only feel joy for her fate." 

 

 

 

They were quiet for some time. The Vikings had a very different view on life and dead and she found it difficult to grasp it all. She remembered the peaceful look Gertrud had had in her eyes just before dying, and felt somehow a little less sad about her death.

 

 

 

"I saw you..." she said a moment later as she did not know what else to say.

 

 

 

The silence between them was not an awkward one, but she wanted to break it anyway, and maybe learn something more the young and confident Viking commander. It would probably only lead to problems, but she felt like life was worth taking some risks.

 

 

 

"Saw me when?" he asked uninterested, while still looking at the boats. "I have been here monitoring the progress with the preparing of the tribute and overlooked our fleet the whole day." 

 

 

 

She had found Ivar by the sea that morning, at the newly created shipping dock. She had not found anyone else around that she knew, and thought it better to stay close to someone she at least felt partly safe being around.

 

 

 

Being alone was not an option for her at the moment.

 

 

 

He had been sitting at a table close to the bridge, sending out orders and commands to the working men around him. There had been quite a lot of people around the area.

 

 

 

“What tribute? What exactly are you preparing for?” She asked curiously, momentarily forgetting her own agenda.  

 

 

 

“Well, Little One. You will have to wait until tonight to see.” Ivar said with an expectant look on his face.

 

 

 

“I’ll look forward to it then.” She anxiously looked at him. “About the other thing…”

 

 

 

"I was not talking about today.” She said lowly. “I’m talking about the morning when Ubbe arrived at the camp." She looked shy as her cheeks turned a little red and she then continued: "When I was getting washed and cleaned by the older women - including Gertrud." 

 

 

 

"I..." taken by surprise, Ivar did for once not have a quick answer to fire back. His attention was now on her, instead of what was going on at the newly arrived ships and he looked to be ready to deny such accusations. 

 

 

 

"I don't care." She quickly added, to ease the tension, as she looked him in his eyes. "I was just wondering why?"

 

 

 

As if he was finally regaining his ground, his mood turned much darker and his eyes looked like they were burning with a blue fire.

 

 

 

"Don't worry, I don't care either." Ivar said with a raised voice, as he clearly did not like to feel uncomfortable. His expression shortly had a hint of boyish fragility, but quickly turned back to the sarcastic and cold. 

 

 

 

"S'not like there was much worth seeing anyway." He commented loudly with a scornful tone, as his eyes trailed up along her body. A couple of Vikings that was working nearby laughed rudely as they could not avoid listening to their conversation. So they could definitely all understand her language she concluded angrily.

 

 

 

"So now I'm suddenly not your type?" she yelled back, hands in her side. "Maybe you prefer something a little more bearded? More broad over the shoulders and muscular? Only a man could ever endure your insufferable company anyway!" 

 

 

 

She had turned around to leave, but as the men around them laughed and howled at her bravery or insanity to actually state such an accusation - which would normally mean certain death for them - Ivar had quickly raised up from his chair and crapped her elbow to forced her back around. He was damn quick despite those crippled legs.

 

 

 

"You worthless whore! You are still only alive because I didn't feel like leaving you to die, or kill you just for sports like some of my warriors would have done. But maybe I will change my mind soon." Ivar stated ice cold.

 

 

 

"Why don't you just run back to the meaningless castle we found you in?" He turned his attention away from her, looking back at the ships.

 

 

 

She had had enough of that damn infuriating Viking, and pointed angrily toward him, and shouted: "You are the most presumptuous, pig-headed man I have ever met!"

 

 

 

"My Lady," Ivar said mockingly, as he looked back at her with an indifferent face.

 

 

 

"If you are comparing me to those highborn pathetic boys you used to be around - Then I'm the first real man you have ever met."

 

 

 

"Ugh! You are impossible to be around!" She was so angry with the arrogant brainless child-like man. "I understand why everyone tries to avoid you, you ignorant fool!"

 

 

 

"Watch it!" he warned her, as he looked angrily at her. "Don't forget that I saved your life three times already!" He yelled back. "Don't make me regret it!"

 

 

 

"Three times?!" She shouted with surprise clear in her voice. "What the fuck are you talking about? Maybe once, and I'll thank you for it if I knew how to actually talk to you, but there seems to be no end to your conceitedness."

 

 

 

With that, she took a big step back, turned around and walked away. She cursed the smug, hardhearted Viking, and wished she could get away from the camp filled the likes of him.

 

 

 

Her morning was just not off to a great start. She needed to find something else to do, or she would turn crazy.

 

 

 

After the attack the other day, she had slept for a day again, waking up to Ubbe offering her some food. 

 

 

 

He had laid her in his own tent, but had not slept there himself as far as she could tell. 

 

 

 

It had been early, but she had been exceedingly happy about getting a solid meal for a long time. Of course, she would end up eating more than she could stomach. She had suddenly felt sick and had thrown some of it up again. 

 

 

 

Luckily, Ubbe had left her alone before witnessing that, and she had told herself to take it easy with food for the rest of the day. 

 

 

 

After at least some food, and a lot of rest, she had really needed to get her mind on something else. The vivid memories of watching Gertrud die in front of her and then almost being raped had still been sitting way too fresh in her mind. 

 

 

 

Afterwards, feeling more fresh and alive she had gathered her ruined blue dress up from the floor. Ubbe had probably taken it of her before laying her on the bed to rest. It had been soaked with blood, and teared apart multiple places. It was completely ruined.

 

 

 

She had slept in a white short-sleeved cotton underwear dress, one she had worn beneath her blue one, but of course Ubbe had prepared new clothing for her as well.

 

 

 

Hanging on a chair beside her bed had been a simpler light grey dress just her size. It had been a two-parted dress, a long skirt and a smaller jacket with tight long sleeves. It seemed like a more practical dress compared to the beautiful blue one. She felt like it was more appropriate after the attack.

 

 

 

With the new grey dress on, she had walked out of the tent looking for something to do or someone she would know - to keep her mind busy and maybe talk about what have happened. 

 

 

 

After the less than successful encounter with Ivar, she decided to try if she could find some work to do, and maybe find some more friendly company.

 

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

"Knife, please." She reached her hand out behind her back.

 

 

 

"Oh, like I give you a weapon now." A skeptical voice came from behind her.

 

 

 

She turned her head around and saw Damon walk up closer to where she was working.

 

 

 

Ubbe, who stood not that far from her extended his hand out with the handle of a knife pointing towards, and she replied with a sweet smile and a "Thank you, Ubbe." 

 

 

 

"Well, he knows you'll just steal it anyway." Damon simply said under his breath. She just ignored his comment, as she continued to work on fixing the tent. 

 

 

 

Ubbe looked to Damon. "You know, you used to be more of a ladies charmer?” He said as he too was working on some repairs of a collapsed wooden wagon.

 

 

 

"Shut up, dickhead." Damon growled at his friend. "I know she already has a firm grip around your small pathetic balls, so don't try to teach me how to be a bitch like you." 

 

 

 

"Fuck you, bloodsucker." He growled back, hitting just the right points to angry his friend further. "Because of your uncontrollable bloodlust, she almost died. After all, you should feel internally thankful for how the Gods felt pity on you, and chose to save her life!" he was now shouting at him.

 

 

 

"You dimwit son of Hell - Don't you understand that I am!" he said completely honestly while yelling back." And don't think for a second that I don't hate myself completely for being the monster I always feared to become." His voice changed as the remorse became clear.

 

 

 

"Then, you dipshit - you should apologize to her, you stupid jötunn!" Ubbe replied, still yelling, but with a conflicted expression on. They were agreeing, but still caught up in their heated fight.

 

 

 

''That is why I am here, you idiot!" Damon yelled back, waving resigning with his hands. 

 

 

 

While they had been arguing, she had finished the repairs of the tent, and started to just laugh quietly of their stupidity, while looking between the two of them.

 

 

 

"Fine! Then, I'll leave you to it, moron." with that, Ubbe looked shortly back at her and as she gave a small nod stating that it was fine by her, he left the two of them alone.

 

 

 

"Thank you, your grace!" Damon yelled after Ubbe, making a small grimace of a sarcastic bow with his head, "I appreciate you, giving ME permission to speak to our guest."  

 

 

 

Ubbe looked over his shoulder. "Well, don't make me regret it!" he warned. "This time, keep the fangs in the bag. Remember that she still has the knife I borrowed her." He looked shortly at her. “You can keep it for know, Nea.”

 

 

 

Damon commented bluntly: "You suck at insults - too sweet of a mommy's boy to really mean it, you should probably work on that if you aim for ‘fearsome Viking’." 

 

 

 

Ubbe send him a stern look, that probably would had set Damon on fire, but he did not reply. 

 

 

 

Then both of them suddenly were laughing their lungs out. 

 

 

 

'Boys' she thought while shaking her head and turning back to inspect her work on the tent fabric. 'I will never get them.' 

 

 

 

After Ubbe had left the two of them alone, she reservedly looked back up at Damon. He had now walked closer to her.  

 

 

 

"So, now I'm finally a guest?" she unimpressively asked him.

 

 

 

She may had been entertained by their little argument before, but she still felt very conflicted about Damon. Yes, he had hurt her but he had also rescued her from that rapist monster.  

 

 

 

She had many questions for him, but at the same time feared that questions from her would evolve into becoming questions for her- and that was the last thing she wanted. 

 

 

 

"Nea?” Damon asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

 

 

“Don’t ask me, he chose it himself.” She resignedly replied.

 

 

 

“Well, I wanted to apologize." Damon stated suddenly waking her up from her line of worried thoughts.

 

 

 

"Good." she said shortly.

 

 

 

"Let me finish. I said I wanted to. And then I realized, I’m not sorry." he said with an unreasonable calm face.

 

 

 

"You almost killed me, but you are not sorry?" she said with disbelief clear on her face. 

 

 

 

"No I'm not." He looked seriously at her. "I would rather have you hate me for doing it, than raped and killed by that worthless bastard. Because of it, I was able to quickly track you."

 

 

 

"You expect me to be okay with that? That I would just accept that you attacked me? I don't even know what is going on with you..." 

 

 

 

"I didn’t say you were supposed to be okay with it, I just said I’m not sorry. But you know what I really am? Selfish, because I make bad choices that hurt you." 

 

 

 

"But it turned out to be the way that I was able rescue you." She could see in his eyes that he believed everything he said. 

 

 

 

"And at the same time, I have never tasted anything as sweet and delicious. I just have to thank fate that Ivar could stop me in time…" His voice trailed off shortly. She did not know what the respond to any of it. 

 

 

 

"So no, I’m not apologizing. I know I am very selfish like that and reckless, but I do not regret hurting you. Because of it, I have tasted your blood and we now have a connection." 

 

 

 

"It's hard to explain exactly what it is, but It's like I feel what you feel." he tried to clarify. "At least the most upsetting feelings you experience." 

 

 

 

"It’s all very much to take in. Feelings like what?" she asked him. 

 

 

 

"It can be any really, they just need to be strong. Pain, fear, happiness, anger... if you are upset..."

 

 

 

"Or having a heated argument?" she asked him, as she feared he that he knew what had happened earlier that day. 

 

 

 

"Yes, including that." Damon admitted. "But I can also sense if it is life threatening, or just a smaller dispute." 

 

 

 

"Great, so you can from now on completely track everything that happens with me? There will be no secrets?" The sarcasm was clear in her voice. She did not like to feel watched all the time – that was how she had lived her old life.

 

 

 

"It'll wear off after some time, I guess..." Damon looked distantly at her. "I'm sorry if it did not fit with your plan of leaving this place, since I'll be able to track your every move for the moment." His face changed into having a smock smile on. Oh, she really hated him when he looked this self-confident.

 

 

 

"Well, fuck off." she was so done with him now. "At least I don't have to look at your stupid face, even though I have to stay in this place." 

 

 

 

Why where there so many cocky men around her in this Godless place. And why did they all want to fight her this day?

 

 

 

 

This was the second time that she was leaving an arrogant man behind. She needed to get some time alone if she was not about to explode, all her feelings was poking just below her skin – And she really did not want Damon to find out how upset she was.

 

 

 

“See you at the evening’s ceremony, as our guest you are required to join.” Damon yelled from behind her. He could probably easily detect her irritation. “You would not be disrespectful to a whole camp of Vikings’ sacred rules, would you?” She could hear how he was trying to test her. She just kept walking away with her back at him.

 

 

 

‘I’m not biting on to this game you are trying to play’ she thought to herself.

 

 

 

 

Oh, how simple her old life at the palace seemed compared to the very different and brutal one here at the Vikings. Still, she remembered how miserable she had felt, and even though she was pissed on some of the people here, that was nothing in comparison to the loneliness.

 

 

 

 

She was never going back there – that was her key driving force, and the thing that helped her mood and mind from going completely mad.

 

 

 

Never.

 

 


End file.
